Just Listen
by SwagSammich78
Summary: They were only human; all eight of them. Things were supposed to make sense, only for them nothing was ever the way it seemed. It was funny how well they thought they knew each other while truly not knowing anything at all. T for language/sensitive th
1. Redemption

So...the author feels that she owes an explanation as to why she's starting YET ANOTHER STORY, so she will give it.

Alright. Said author has frequent...er...mood swings. Yeah, let's go with that. So, said author often has times when her mood is not-so-perky (although not as often as back in the day). About a month ago, author was in one of these "moods" when she began to write a clusterfuck of ideas and dialogue and plot scenarios that didn't fit into any of the other stories she was doing at the time. So, said author put them in their own little file and saved them. She continued to update her already posted stories, but found that when her mood got down or she was in the throes (that word choice seems super awkward) of insomnia, she'd go back to that little file and work on things. She'd tweek them around. She'd add more seemingly insignificant dialogue.

And then, something happened. Said author discovered that she liked the file that was slowly turning into a story so much because not only was it an outlet for her personal feelings, it was also the story of so many other people around the globe. Maybe not scenario wise (although a few of these might be relateable), but emotional wise. Said author is sure that somewhere within all this are feelings that every reader (or at least most) could relate to at one point or another. It's not a story about rainbows and butterflies. It's not a story about a bunch of emos. It's simply a story that many of us already know: friendship. Friends who think they know everything there is to know about one another, only they can't begin to imagine what the other person goes through. There's good times, bad times...more bad times...god, this is some sappy sounding shit. What_ever_. At its best you'll be going "Oh SNAP!"

At its worst, you'll want to throw your computer out the window.

Point is, I made a new story. It wasn't one I ever planned on publishing. But who knows? Maybe someone will like it. Whatever. Deal with it.

;)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks

* * *

Redemption

_Walk away._

_He couldn't do it. If he did then he'd look the very way he'd been trying to avoid appearing as; a coward. He'd be a joke. A punk. Turning around, taking the path from which he'd come, wasn't an option._

_They surrounded him, nearly pressing down on all sides. He lifted his chin, refusing to let the conflicting feelings that were surging inside of him come pouring out. He didn't know what he felt at the moment, to be honest. Fear? Anger? Regret?_

_Nuh uh. He regretted nothing. Wasn't that what people always said to do? Live life with no regrets?_

_Then again, this wasn't really living, was it?_

_"You can't leave." The boy in the center shook his head, his face menacing. He glared back. "I don' even know why yo ass would try."_

_It was true. Once you got in you couldn't just roll up out of there. It didn't work that way. You were with them until the day you died. He'd thought it was what he wanted. He'd been wrong. Somehow he'd convinced himself that he could just bow out and not be missed, but they found him. They always found him._

_How disappointed would everyone be when they found him? How would they react? Would they feel sorry for him? Or would they simply chalk him off as another lost cause that couldn't be saved? Would his own family care?_

_Would she care?_

_Redemption. It was what he'd silently been searching for, what he'd desperately craved. This wasn't the way to do it. This hadn't been the way to live his life. Why was he just seeing that when it was all too late for him?_

_"You gon say somethin?" The boy stepped closer, the others taking it as a hint to do the same. The circle tightened around him, threatening to suffocate him. The boy's eyes hardened as he glared at him. "You gon just stand there and look like a bitch nigga?"_

_Walk away._

_It was too late. He shook his head, vaguely aware of the hazy downpour that had begun. It lightly misted everything around them, chilling his already cold body to the core._

_Run._

_He snorted, shaking his head. How stupid. How fucking stupid of him to think that doing exactly what people told him not to do was clever. How dumb to try and forge his own path this way. How moronic to try and be so different from those around him that he resorted to this._

_"I guess he think we ain' good enough ta talk to no more, ya'll," the boy said with a sneer, turning around to glance at the others. "Since he ain' gon be one of us then we ain' worth talkin' to."_

_"I ain't say all that."_

_"You ain' got to!" The boy shook his head. "You said dat shit tha second you tried ta ease yo punk ass back ta whereva yo ass came from!" He snorted. "You can't go back. You ain't gonna go back."_

_Run._

_"Betta rethink yo decision, son," a quiet voice came from behind him. He slowly turned his head to see one of the others, one of the few who had felt the same as he had, his face filled with regret. "Betta quit."_

_The boy nodded. "You heard him." He turned back around to look at him. He shrugged. "You gotta choice. Leave or stay. Live or die." He straightened. "So, what's it gon be?"_

_'Every minute is a choice. Every second is a choice.'_

_The words echoed in his mind before he could even stop them, so familiar and so loud it was as if they were being verbally spoken. They pressed down on all four sides of his mind until they were all he could think, all he could feel._

_'To live or not to live.'_

_He closed his eyes._

_' To be or not to be.'_

_He opened his eyes again, narrowing them towards the leader, towards the very person who held his short life in his cold hands._

_'You always have a choice. Always.'_

_He didn't want to die. But he didn't want to live like this. He was done with hurting those around him. He was done with hurting himself._

_And he was sorry. He was so, so sorry._

_"I'm out."_

_The words left his mouth with relative ease, his chest deflating and his shoulders slumping as he felt a burden lift off his shoulders. He was free. In this moment, in this time and space, he was finally free. _

_It was just too bad it wouldn't last. The boy shook his head, slowly lifting his hand so that the black weapon gleamed eerily in the moonlight. He stood his ground, refusing to spend his last moments being afraid. He took in the cold air around him, the feel of his wet t shirt that was plastered to his skin, how it felt as his breath entered and left his lungs. He felt the steady, rhythmic pulse of his heartbeat in his chest._

_'I ain't gots no heart ta give. I ain't got time fo dat shit.'_

_He wondered if she truly knew how she was the only one who had ever truly owned it. His thoughts all fled as he heard the click of a gun. He looked up in time to see the boy press his finger on the trigger, shrugging. He sighed, as if pained from what he was about to do. He shook his head._

_"I'm sorry."_

_There was a blast. And then, there was nothing._

...Huh. Well.

...?

-Kelsey


	2. Ain't No Happy Endings

Soooo today kind of sucked...so I'm updating this! lol  
Yeah, I haven't forgotten my other stories (one in particular that a few might be ready to beat me up for not updating) so don't freak out if the updates are few and far in between. Luckily I haven't hit a block for any of the ones I'm working on, knock on wood.

This...actually got more reviews than I was expecting. Thanks to Darelle the Author, nina, missingthepoint, insert psuedonym, MizzC, and MissG2020 for the reviews!

_"Is this a prologue or something?"_

Yes. The last chapter was a prologue. I'm a sucker for them. Rarely will I do a story without one.

_"So you're not putting any pairings in this story?"_

Damn, is that all you people care about? LOL I'M JOKING. Seriously though, yes, it's going to have them. I just meant that, if done right, it's not what the story's going to REVOLVE around. Actually, they're gonna be pretty...varied. That's all you get for free.

There ain't much action, so my bad. I feel like I'm constantly explaining myself. I'm just gonna shut the hell up now and let you read.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks

* * *

Ain't No Happy Endings

_Five Months Earlier_

"So, you some kinda musician or something?"

The girl took one of her earphones out of her ears to glance towards the man who had lowered his paper from the opposite side of the aisle. His eyes were on the guitar that sat in the empty seat beside her, leaning against her dark blue duffel bag. She shrugged.

"Or something."

He turned towards her. The rest of the plane was quiet; there hadn't been many riders to begin with so the few that had all boarded were now either fast asleep or minding their own business. She supposed that he figured he'd resort to chatting it up with a sixteen year old since there was no one else.

"You were visiting Honolulu?"

She shook her head, staring out the window into the endless sky. "Moving."

His brow wrinkled in confusion. "Moving _to _Hawaii?"

"From."

He eyed her bag, giving her another incredulous look.

"Why on earth would anyone want to leave _Hawaii_?"

She sighed, slouching in her seat. It seemed as if she'd gotten that question from everyone. Her best friend, Joss, who had driven her to the airport. Her older sister, Mia, who had been the only one she could trust enough to say a true goodbye to, the man who had checked her bags, the woman who had scanned her things as well as herself, the man who had boarded her. Even the flight attendants, who had tried to engage her in conversation, had given her confused looks.

"Time for a change," she mumbled, gazing back out the window and putting her earphones back into her ears to signal the end of their conversation. She wasn't much of a talker. She never had been. Maybe it was what happened when you were the fifth youngest of thirteen siblings. After awhile, you realized that when you talked, chances were that no one was listening. She'd gotten tired of trying.

She wondered how it would be in the actual, continental US. The only thing she knew about her aunt was that she was her mom's only sister, she was in her early forties with no children, and she lived in Maryland. Some place named Woodcrest, to be exact.

Woodcrest. It sounded like a joke, but it was the only real option she had. Her family was too poor to ever make it to the states. She'd only managed to get the money for a one way plane ticket because people owed her favors. She didn't have enough to go back to Hawaii. Not that she ever would.

How would her parents react when they saw she was gone? Would they yell? What was she thinking, of _course _they would. They'd round up her brothers and sisters like cattle and interrogate them until the moon was over their heads. They'd shout until they were blue in the face. Her mother would cry.

The thought of the pain she was causing her mom made a lump form in her throat but within seconds it was gone and she was turning up the volume of her iPod.

No more surfing. No more ukulele playing on her favorite rock down at the beach with her friends. No more of life as she knew it.

It was depressing. At the same time, it was exactly what she wanted.

She let her eyes close, for the first time in a long time, feeling as if her life were finally getting somewhere.

* * *

"Boy! Where are you going?"

Fifteen year old Riley Freeman walked towards the front door, wearing a black t shirt and black jeans. He had a black hat pulled over his braids, a knapsack tossed over his shoulder. Seventeen year old Huey Freeman snorted, going back to his paper. As if Grandad really had to ask.

"Nowhere."

"Because people who have no destination often walk towards the door with a purpose," Huey mumbled sarcastically, not even looking up. Riley smacked his lips.

"Man, der you go instigatin'!"

"Mmhmm. Tryna be smart." Robert Freeman folded his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing. "Boy, don't play with me!"

"Ain't nobody playin!" Riley shot back, rolling his hazel eyes and sucking his teeth. "Dang, why you sweatin' me, grandad? Why you gotta be all on a nigga's-"

"What have I told you about that _word_?" Grandad snapped, throwing up his hands. "Boy! How many times do I have to explain to you that that word oppressed our people? Our ancestors died over that word! And here you go, usin' it all willy nilly like you gettin' paid to say it! Shoot, wish someone would pay _me _to use some words! I'd be the talking-est thing since-"

"Grandad, what is you _talkin _bout?" Riley's shoulders slumped. "Can I just _go _now?"

"Yeah yeah, whateva!" Grandad waved his hand as Riley cackled, his boots thudding on the hardwood floor as he threw open the front door. "Thinkin' he's gonna get the okie doke on his old man. Well, I showed him!"

The front door slammed and Huey glanced towards his grandfather, shaking his head.

"You do realize that Riley never told you where he was going, right?"

"What?" Grandad shook his head, smacking his lips. "Nigga, hush."

It was funny. It seemed like the older Riley and Grandad got, the more ignorant they became. Huey shook his head.

Regression sure was a funny thing.

"Well, it's a good thing he's gone, anyway." Grandad shook his head, turning away from the door to glance at his eldest grandson. "Because we need to talk."

"I had nothing to do with it." Huey folded his paper shut, shaking his head again. "It broke on its own, it was like that when I even got to it-"

"What the hell are you talking about, Huey?"

Huey blinked. "Um…what are _you _talking about?"

Grandad sighed before walking into the dining room to sit in the chair beside his grandson. "Now." At the realization that he wasn't about to get busted for whatever he'd done Huey had went back to his paper. "You know all those doctor appointments I had last month back in August? After yo' Aunt Cookie's funeral?"

Huey inwardly cringed the way he did whenever anyone insisted on bringing his aunt up. "Yeah. The ones for your arthritis, right?"

"Well…yeahhhh. About that." Grandad shifted in his seat, adjusting his glasses. Huey didn't even look up. "Well, it wasn't the arthritis."

"Huh." Huey flipped the page. "Well, what was it?"

"See, that's what I'm getting to." Grandad made a face. "It's…well, it's kind of cancer."

Huey blinked. He slowly lowered the paper, giving his grandfather a look. When he didn't spot any kind of expression that would indicate a joke on his face he frowned.

"How is it "kind of" cancer?" he asked, his eyebrows scrunching together. "Either it's cancer or it's not."

"Boy, you know what I mean!" Grandad shot back, glaring at him. "I was trying to break the news to you gently!"

"Well, there's nothing "gentle" about cancer." Huey rolled his eyes. "Okay, Grandad. You have cancer. So what, you're going to start chemotherapy? Get surgery?"

Grandad sighed, exhaling heavily. Huey's eyebrow lifted.

"…radiation?"

"Well, they found it…kind of late." Grandad rubbed the back of his neck. "You remember that cancer that Patrick Swayze man had? The one out that _Dirty Dancing _movie Tom's little girl used to make you watch when ya'll were twelve?"

"Pancreatic?"

"Right! That's the one! Well, I have that. Well, _had _it. Then it kind of spread to…well, everywhere else. So now it's just basically "everywhere cancer"."

"You…have everywhere cancer."

Grandad nodded.

"And…you're not going to do anything about it."

"Boy, the average person with my cancer only live three to six months!" Grandad snapped, his eyes narrowing. "It's too far gone. There's nothing any of us can do. It's terminal."

Huey's eyebrows lifted. Terminal.

It was three syllables. Eight letters. One word.

Well. That one word had just ruined _everything_.

Huey stared towards his grandfather, the word ringing through his head. Terminal. _Terminal_…

"How long?" He was surprised that he was capable of verbal communication at this point being that he was in complete shock.

Grandad tucked his hands in the pockets of his slacks, shrugging and looking towards the floor. Now that the information was out it seemed so obvious that something had been wrong; he was too thin, too tired looking to be healthy. How hadn't he noticed something was wrong before?

"A year. Maybe less."

A year. Maybe less. Huey snorted, shaking his head and closing his eyes.

There were very few things in the world that could get to him. Unfortunately, the prospect of death was one of them. It wasn't even the death itself; it was the aspect that it came in three ways. Either it came instantly, the surprise of it so sharp it cut like a knife. Or, it came at a point where the final outcome looked unclear, but death was an obvious option you were forced to prepare yourself for. That was probably the least painful out of the three.

And then…there was the gradual, terminal death. There was the known fact that an individual had limited time and having to remember that every time you saw them, every time you _thought _about them. There was having to watch their health deteriorate until they were practically begging death to come. There was the constant grieving, the relentless pain that poured out like an open wound every moment until death finally took it upon itself to show up. You spent a good amount of time grieving before they died, and then you had to do it all over again after they were gone. Maybe to people who thought there was so afterlife waiting for them they felt reassured.

But he knew that there was nothing. There were no second chances. All one had was this life, these moments. And once time was up…that was it.

"Have you told Riley?" He opened his eyes in time to see his Grandad shake his head.

"No."

Huey nodded.

"I don't want you goin and telling him," Grandad continued, his voice stern. Huey stared up at him. "I don't want anyone else to know. I told you because I knew you could handle it. Because you're the strongest."

Ah. It always came down to that. He was _always _the strongest, the bravest, the most self assured. It was what he wanted and it was what people saw. It was all he knew how to be.

Yet…did that mean he couldn't be sad about this?

"I told you because I knew you wouldn't be walkin' around all booboo faced like your brother would. Shoot." Grandad snorted, shaking his head. "He'll be all whinin' before I'm even dead! I don't need that! I'm an eighty nine year old man, and I've had a much fuller life than those who have lived to be one hundred. I ain't scared of death. I don't have anything to be afraid of." He leveled Huey with look. "I'm telling you this because I know you'll understand."

Did he? Did understanding the mechanisms and logic of death make it any more bearable? Was it supposed to? He nodded, not trusting his voice. Not trusting anything else.

He hadn't felt this way since…well, the end of July, actually, when he, Grandad and Riley had went back to their hometown of Chicago to attend the funeral of their Aunt Cookie. Had Robert known even then that he'd be following soon behind her?

_'The world is a hard and lonely place, and nobody gets anything for free, and you know what else? One day, you and everyone you know is gonna die.'_

How fitting that his own words, spoken so long ago, would come back to haunt him.

"Boy, stop lookin all solemn!" Grandad suddenly barked, causing his grandson's head to whip up. "Didn't I just get finished sayin' I ain't want all that sad mess? Leave the crap for your brother to do!"

Riley mourned and he was being human. He mourned and he was being weak.

"I'm not solemn." He shook his head, glancing over his shoulder towards one of the open windows. Early September air was filtering in, the fading rays of sunlight reflecting off the window panes of the house across the street and sending gold beams of light in his face. He blinked, turning back to his grandfather, whose eyebrow was raised. "I'm fine."

'I'm fine.' How many times had he heard people use those two words whenever they were feeling anything _but _fine? How often did he know that those words meant the exact opposite when coming out of his mouth? How frequently did he say them, only to realize that he was never, ever fine?

Grandad nodded. He was never the type to try and read between the lines. Instead he turned around, already past the conversation and ready to move on.

"Good. Well, I'm goin to watch some of dat BET. Mmhmm." He grinned, rising to his feet and doing some odd butt shake that make Huey roll his eyes. "Watch me some big bootie hos and drink my orange juice…" His voice faded off as he went down the hallway, the floorboards creaking gently as he walked over them. Huey blinked at the door, sighing and folding his paper, tossing it on the table in front of him. He folded his arms on the table in front of him, resting his chin on them and focusing his sight on the outside view.

What he was looking for, he didn't know. He watched the patterns on the wall change as the shadows moved along with the sunlight. It was nearly dark when he was reaching for his cell phone, flipping it open and dialing the only number he could think of to dial in this situation. It only took two rings before her voice was in his ear.

"Hello?"

He felt his chest loosen, felt his jaw unclench. She, as much as he'd hate to admit it, was his constant. Her moods, her emotions, and her personality were so routinely random that he didn't ever have to worry about her as nearly as anything else. He couldn't stand when things suddenly decide to change or switch up. She, however, always remained the same.

"Are you busy?"

He heard her pause. She was most likely trying to analyze the urgency in his voice. It wasn't something she was good at. "No, I'm not busy. I was with Cindy…but I'm on my way home now."

"Where are you?"

There was another pause. "Walking from Meadowlark Park."

"I'll come get you."

Her voice was filled with sarcasm. "Are you sure that's safe?"

He could tell just by the way she spoke, that she was frustrated. Reading her was too easy.

He sat up, already rising to his feet. "I don't really care right now."

The silence on the other end was a let on to the fact that she was on to him. Sure enough, when she spoke again, her voice was filled with concern.

"Are you okay?"

No. He sighed, exhaling through his nose and closing his eyes.

_Terminal_.

She was his constant. There was no reason for him to suddenly change it up and not be hers.

"Yeah." He nodded, as if trying to convince himself his words were true. "I'm fine."

* * *

She hated this.

Seventeen year old Maya Johansen stood between her mother and younger sister, Karinne, as the three of them stared down at the headstone. Orange light from the dying sun cast it in a nearly angelic glow. She burrowed her hands deeper in her shorts, her eyes scanning the letters repeatedly. She felt a gentle nudge come from her right and glanced beside her into her mother's hazel eyes.

"Maya." Her voice was filled with grief and buried down with sadness. Her short, dark hair was tucked behind her ears. "Do you want to say a prayer?"

The girl's eyebrow lifted.

"Ma, why would you even ask me that?" she replied as gently as she possibly could, given the circumstances. "Ask Kat. She's the one that believes in that type of stuff."

_'It's _her _dad that's dead, not mine.'_

Karinne shook her head, her dark gray eyes threatening to pour over at any given moment. Her nose was red rimmed, her shoulders shaking from held in sobs. Maya sighed as her mother trained a severe eye on her.

"Maya, Kat can't do it. She's too torn up about it-"

"Then _you _do it." She frowned. "If you're coherent enough to try and get me to pray then you're sound enough to do it yourself."

Her mother grit her teeth, closing her eyes. "My," she grumbled in a warning tone. "Please. Don't do this right now."

Maya sighed. She vocalized how she felt on an issue and she was seen as unreasonable. Every time.

On her other side she felt Kat's hand curve around her upper arm and tensed as she rested her head on Maya's shoulder. The older sibling shook her head, glancing up to the sky.

"Oh, lord," she said softly, trying her best to think of something good to say. She wasn't religious. She hadn't been to church since she was seven in Detroit. She didn't know anything about this crap. But she also knew that her mother had lost her husband and her sister had lost her father. Even if he hadn't meant much to her…well, he'd meant something to them. Who was she to penalize them for that? "We pray that you give our family peace. And that wherever Eric may be, he's found that same tranquility." She thought it was a pretty good job, but when her mother elbowed her she rolled her eyes and continued. "We pray that he's no longer suffering and that he knows…" She stopped, pausing. She felt Kat's eyes lift so that they were on her, felt her mother freeze beside her. "That he knows he was loved. Because he was. He was a wonderful, kind hearted person. He deserves nothing less than to be given the peace he craved so severely he had to-"

"Thank you, Maya," her mother interrupted softly, her own eyes wet. Maya pressed her lips together, exhaling through her nose. Kat was now crying freely into Maya's collar, gripping her shirt as if holding on to a lifeline. She swallowed, wincing.

She knew she would be seen as a bad person if she ever voiced her true thoughts, but she didn't feel sorry for him. Not one bit. No one had caused him to die but himself. He'd been selfish enough to take his own life and leave her family behind to suffer the consequences. Not a day went by that she didn't see the grief in her mother's eyes. Not a moment passed where she didn't notice Karinne stare longingly at his car, which sat unused in the garage. Every item of his was treasured, sacred. He was uplifted as if he was some savior.

And he wasn't, at least not to her. To her he was a coward. He was a sad, sorry excuse for a husband, a father, and a stepfather. He deserved no one's sympathy.

"Mom." Maya gave her mother a concerned glance. "It's gonna be dark soon."

Her mother nodded, pressing her hand to her mouth as silent tears leaked down her face. "Drive. Please."

Maya nodded, glancing at the headstone one final time. The gardenias that were sitting neatly in front of it managed to block out the date of his death, but it was a day she'd always remember. One she'd never forget.

"One year today." She looked towards Kat, who had finally chosen to speak. "September fifth." She glanced up at Maya, her shoulders slumping. "Do you think he misses us as much as we miss him?"

Maya blinked, pressing her lips together. Kat's eyes were shining with unshed tears. She didn't know what to say to console the girl, so instead she settled on walking away, leaving her to find her own answer.

* * *

"I think I'm beginning to resent him."

Seventeen year old Cindy McPhearson glanced towards her best friend, Jazmine Dubois, as they sat on the swings of Meadowlark Memorial park, their toes in the sand and the warmth of the sunset falling on their shoulders. Cindy glanced back down at the sand.

"Who? Your dad?"

Jazmine shook her head, gently pushing off with minimal effort so that she began to swing back and forth.

"No."

Cindy made a face, her long blond ponytail falling over her shoulder. After a few more moments of silence she gave Jazmine a confused look.

"You don't mean who I think you mean, do you?"

She nodded in response. Cindy blinked.

"Why?"

Jazmine let her swing slow down naturally, her long strawberry blond hair flowing behind her in thick curls. After another lapse of silence she finally shrugged.

"I'm tired of keeping secrets."

Cindy nodded. She could understand that.

"I mean, we're starting our last year of high school," she continued, staring up at the sky with contemplative green eyes. "And I don't want to have to spend another year planning the hallway routes I take or making sure I don't sit beside him at lunch just so people won't get suspicious about us. It was hard enough to do last year, and we didn't even start dating until February."

The blond dug her toes even deeper into the cool sand. "Well." She shrugged. "Have you told him?"

"Told him what?"

"Told him what you just told me?"

Jazmine shook her head. Cindy sighed.

"You agreed to it, you know," she pointed out, feeling bad when Jazmine grimaced. "I mean it sucks, but you did."

"Because I thought eventually he'd get tired of doing it, too!"

"Please." Cindy snorted. "Waiting around for him to change his stance on something is like waiting for people to realize Michael Jackson really _is _dead, instead of hiding out on some island." She rolled her eyes. "I don't know why you two won't tell anyone anyway."

"Because," Jazmine said, shooting her a glare. "My daddy for some reason can take us being friends but doesn't want us to be anything else. I told you already."

"It's still stupid." The blond shook her head. "I mean, I get he runnin' for mayor and all but what, he thinks just because your boyfriend has occasional problems with the federal government it would make his campaign look bad?" After the words left her mouth she winced. "Actually, when you say that aloud it does seem kind of bad-"

"Shut up." She stuck out her tongue before her face grew serious. "And then there's the people at school. And you know how people at school can be."

Cindy smirked. "Don't I know it."

Jazmine kicked off again, slinging up sand with the heels of her feet. "So, what should I do?" She asked, sailing back and forth through the air. Cindy watched her, her fingers wrapped around the chains of her own swing.

"Well, you know what I told you before, and that's that there's three really, really bad relationship ideas." She ticked them off on her fingers. "Friends with benefits, hookups, and secret relationships."

"You're the best." Jazmine's tone was filled with sarcasm. "Really."

Cindy began to swing as well. "Well," she offered, shrugging. "You could always just, you know, _ask _him about it."

Jazmine's face was flat. "Your ideas really suck."

"Well, I'm sorry," she shot back sarcastically. "Why don't you go ask your other friends for advice? Oh, wait. You can't. Cause I'm the only one outside of you and him that actually knows."

Jazmine skid to a stop, her eyes filling with tears. Cindy slowed down as well, frowning.

"I was joking. I'm sorry."

Jazmine got off the swing, grabbing her pink flip flops out the sand. "Let's just talk about something else," she said softly. Cindy nodded, getting off the swing and picking up her shoes as well, following Jazmine over to the grass. They both plopped down, spreading their legs and lying back to stare up at the sky.

"This sucks." Cindy glared at the clouds. "I don't wanna go back to school."

"Me, neither." Jazmine frowned. "Maybe we can drop out and be hookers."

"Nah." Cindy waved her hand. "Too much work." When Jazmine grinned her way she smiled back.

"Did they mail your schedule yet?"

"Yeah." Jazmine rolled her eyes. "And I'm going to have to spend all morning in the guidance counselor's office. They signed me up for AP English instead of regular. Which wouldn't be a problem if I didn't, you know, suck at _regular _English." Cindy snorted. "_And _they put me in _Jazz Band_."

Cindy sat up on her elbows and made a face. "So?" When Jazmine gave her a look she shrugged. "What? What's wrong with band?"

"I don't know anything about regular band!" Jazmine pointed out. "I've never been in band! I don't wanna be in _band_. I was supposed to be in SAT prep!"

"And you want them to take away Band for_ that_?" Cindy snorted, rolling her own eyes. "Whatever floats your boat, I guess." Jazmine shot her a dirty look. "Why would yo ass _want _to take an SAT prep class?"

"Because." Jazmine made a face. "My dad thinks it would be a helpful course."

"Pssh. Whatever. He'll be too busy to notice." Cindy waved her hand. "He's never home anyways. And it's not like your mom cares much or that she's home too often herself…"

"I'm glad you stay with us more than at your own house." Jazmine smirked towards her best friend. "I don't like being home alone all the time."

"Yeah, your whiny ass. Kidding," Cindy said, laughing as Jazmine hit her arm. "You know I gotchu, girl."

They grinned before falling into a comfortable silence, closing their eyes and letting the soft sounds of the wind blowing through the trees be their source of communication. While Cindy was loud and crazy around her friends, Jazmine not being too different, they could sit in silence for hours without saying a word and be perfectly content. They weren't just best friends. They were like sisters.

Well, basically.

"Got any classes with yo _boo boo_?" Cindy asked in a mocking voice. Jazmine bit the inside of her cheek thoughtfully.

"Nah. Just lunch."

"Ah." Cindy nodded before raising her eyebrows. "Wait. I thought you both signed up for that one class together?"

"We did," Jazmine replied, shrugging. She plucked a dandelion from beside her and twirled the stem in between her fingers. "I'm not the only one who's gonna have to be in guidance tomorrow. They put him in the wrong gym _and _for some reason he's in tenth grade Biology. He's pissed. He's going to try and get it switched tomorrow."

Cindy snorted. "Good luck with that one. Everything's probably past full by now."

"I told him." She closed her eyes, gently blowing the dandelion so that the tiny petals flew off. Cindy glanced at it.

"Missed two."

"Darn it." She tossed it aside. "Figures."

"At least it _is _our last year." Cindy stretched. "I mean, I don't know how much more of this place I could take-"

"You think he's embarrassed or something?"

"Huh?" Cindy's head whipped towards Jazmine. She rolled her eyes, catching on immediately. "No, you idiot. He's just being…him."

Jazmine rolled over so that she was on her stomach, picking at a blade of grass. "He could be. He's always talking about how difficult I am and how my memory's shot and that my attention span sucks-"

"Yea, hun." Cindy gave her a look. "Because you are difficult. And you _do _have a bad memory. And your attention span _does _suck."

"Thanks a lot."

"But," she added before Jazmine could get her feelings all hurt. "You're nice."

"Oh, that just makes up for everything," Jazmine said, rolling her eyes. "I'm _nice_."

"Well not too many people are! Damn!" Cindy smacked her lips, flipping her hair. "Can't say _nothing _nice for a motha fucka! But whateva."

"Fine." Jazmine giggled when Cindy threw a handful of grass at her. "Well, how's your mom?"

Cindy frowned.

"She's alright, I guess."

Jazmine's eyes narrowed. "Cindy-"

"I wouldn't know since I'm always staying over your house all the time, would I?" She glanced up at her.

The mulatto hesitated before nodding, frowning. She continued to examine Cindy as she lifted her gaze to the setting sun once again. Cindy sighed.

She always felt bad when she left Jazmine out the loop. When she didn't explain why she was crawling through her bedroom window at one in the morning on a school night to sleep over. Why she acted as if the Dubois' house was her actual home. Jazmine already knew how her mom was, how she'd always been. She could tell Jazmine and not be judged.

However, along with being nice, Jazmine was also a worrier. She'd probably call the cops quicker than someone yelling "snitch". The snitching rule didn't apply to Jazmine. She didn't care who the hell you were. If someone needed help or was hurt and ratting them out would be the way to save them then she'd do it in a heartbeat.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't work in this situation.

"I still think you should tell him." Cindy shook her head. "You don't want to wind up hating him. You don't want for you two to turn against each other over this."

"We won't." Jazmine pressed her lips together. "I guess resent was a bad word. I don't resent him. I'm just…" when she didn't finish Cindy nudged her.

"Mad?"

"What? No!" She shook her head. "I'm not mad. I'm just…" once again she couldn't find a word. Cindy smirked.

"You're mad." Jazmine began to protest but she cut her off. "I know it's not like you to get mad, but it's what you are. It doesn't make you a bad person and it doesn't make you mean. It makes you human."

She sighed. "Maybe a little…"

Cindy started to go on but stopped as Jazmine's phone began ringing, her back pocket of her denim shorts lighting up. She reached around into it, plucking it out and staring at the screen. She glanced towards Cindy, her eyes pleading. She waved her hand towards her, rolling over onto her side.

"I'll be over your house when you get home. Go ahead." She smirked. "It's not like you'll be seeing him much after today anyways."

Jazmine shot her a halfhearted glare, pressing the talk button with her thumb and holding the phone up to her ear. "Hello?" She slipped on her shoes and started for the main road, her hair bouncing on her shoulders as she walked. "No, I'm not busy. I was with Cindy…but I'm on my way home now."

Cindy sat up, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees as Jazmine's voice faded behind her. The western horizon was now a blood orange, the sun halfway into its descent. She closed her eyes, sighing.

She didn't say what she had been thinking since the words of warning could have been directed either way.

But no matter what any of them did, secrets had a way of always exposing themselves.

* * *

Michael Caesar was turning the corner when he was smacked in the head with a spray paint can.

…Seriously.

"Ow!" He rubbed the back of his head, whirling around and spotting a bit of movement in the bushes beside the sidewalk. He set his guitar he was carrying on the grass, walked over to them, parted the branches, and glared down at the culprit.

"I thought your days of using housing as your canvas was gone?"

"Man, shut up!" Riley poked his head out the bushes, glaring up at him. "Watchu bein' all nosy fo anyway?"

"You just knocked me upside the head with a paint can!" Caesar pointed out, picking up the empty can and shaking it in his hand. "What'd you expect?"

"Oh, my b!" Riley shrugged. "It was out. I was throwin'. I ain't know it was gon hit yo ass. Shoulda moved."

"How can I dodge a paint can coming from _behind_?"

"Damn, nigga! You foreva _whinin' _bout somethin!"

Caesar opened his mouth, thought twice about it, and shook his head. "Just forget it." He glanced up at the house they were in front of. "That…is real inappropriate, man."

"I kno' rite?" Riley was obviously proud of himself. "See, I was gon go fo-"

Caesar held up a hand. "I don't even wanna know." He gestured to the house. "Whose place is this, anyway?"

Riley grinned. "Dat's the beauty of it! Dis old man Turner's house! Dat shit been abandoned fo years! Ain't no way I can get busted!"

"You actually can." Riley's smile vanished. "Since it's city property and all…ow!" He glared at the younger teen as another paint can wacked him in the face. "What the hell?"

"Dat one _wuz _on purpose." Riley rummaged through his bag, pulling out another can and shaking it. "Bitch ass nigga."

"Yeahhh…bye, Riley." Caesar shook his head, retrieving his guitar and starting down the sidewalk.

"You ain't gon tell Huey you seent me, is you?" Riley hissed after him. Caesar snorted.

"He's my best friend. What do you think? _OW_!"

Another spray paint can dropped to the ground, bouncing off Caesar's jaw.

"Nigga you _suck_!"

Caesar picked up the can, hurling it back towards the bush. There was a loud grunt but he ignored it, shoving his hands in his pockets and continuing home.

Well. School was starting. He sighed, feeling around in his pocket for his key as his house came into view. He really didn't feel like trading in the hot summer days for snowy winter ones. And he sure as hell wasn't trying to have his entire afternoon taken up by _studying_. But the faster it was over with the faster he could graduate.

Which, technically, only meant he'd have to go through _more _school…

Damn. This sucked.

He stuck the key into the lock, twisting it and pushing the door open. "Aye yo mamadukes!" He closed the front door, locking it and dropping his key on the table beside the door. When he didn't get a response he tried again. "Mama!" He propped his guitar against the wall and glanced around, frowning.

He knew she was home because her car was in the driveway. But the house sure was dark…

"Mama!" he shouted up the dark stairs. "Where you at?" He shook his head, wandering into the kitchen and flipping the switch. He nearly jumped out his shoes when he saw his mother at the kitchen table, her elbows on the surface and her head in her hands. "Dang, mom! What you sittin' in the dark for?" He jabbed his thumb behind him. "You didn't hear me?"

She shook her head, her face hidden. He gave her a look.

"What's wrong?"

She dropped her hands, shaking her head. He eased into the chair beside hers, giving her a concerned look.

Everyone could laugh at him all they wanted to, but his mom was like his best friend. She was the only parent he'd ever known. She'd always done whatever it took to make sure they had a roof to live under and that he had everything he needed.

So, when she was sitting in a pitch black house looking like someone had died? Hell _yeah _he was gonna worry.

She sighed, swallowing and leaning back in her chair. Her braids were pulled back in a ponytail, her brown eyes red and puffy.

"I lost my job."

Caesar blinked before sighing and giving her a sympathetic look. "Damn, ma." He took her hand, squeezing it. "Well, it's okay! It shouldn't be so hard to find a new one…"

Okay, that was a lie. He kept up with the news. He kept up with international as well as local and federal government affairs. But the economy was slowly improving! More people were getting jobs, people were slowly but surely getting their shit together. She'd be alright. She was his _mama_.

"I mean, your old boss was a loser anyway." He shook his head. She sniffed, shaking her own head. "And for what _you _did? They should have paid you way more. You're better off without them-"

"No, I'm _not_." She looked like she was close to tears. "Baby, I got fired three months ago."

His eyes shot open. "_Three months_?" When she nodded he gaped at her. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you're the child and I'm your mother." She shook her head again. "You shouldn't have to worry about this sort of thing."

"But _ma_!" He gave her an incredulous look. "Three months?"

"I know-"

"How have you been paying the bills for the past three _months_?"

She frowned, tears building in her eyes again. "I haven't."

He sat up. She took his hand in both of hers, staring at him.

"I tried everything. Nowhere is hiring. I even used my credit cards to pay the bills…but then the bills got too high on those." She let go of his hands, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm so far in debt it's _ridiculous_! And it just happened out of nowhere-"

"Unemployment benefits?" He shrugged. "Did you try to get"

"_Yes_!" She sighed. "I wasn't eligible."

"How were you not-"

"I'm out of options! Okay?" She threw up her hands before slamming her fists on the table. "I'm out of options and I'm out of money and I'm out of _time_." She buried her face in her hands. "I don't know how to tell you this but I have to come up with money soon. Or…we're gonna lose the house."

His jaw dropped.

"Are you _serious_."

His mother's head whipped up and she shot him a dirty look. He winced as she burst into tears, her head dropping into her arms.

"Well…I could try and get a job."

She snorted, glancing at him. "That's sweet, honey. But even a part time job wouldn't save us."

"Well, I could get a full time job."

"The hell you can." She cut her eyes at him. "You worry about school."

"Ma, how can I not worry about this though?"

"Look, I'll find a way." She shrugged. "I'll borrow money from your uncles. I'll borrow money from your _grandmother_. It doesn't matter." She sat up. "I won't let them take the house."

Caesar shook his own head. "Damn."

She sighed. "Well, have you eaten?"

"Yeah. I ate at Hiro's." He sighed, giving her a look. "Are you gonna be okay?"

She wiped her eyes, nodding. "Of course."

He paused. "Are _we _going to be okay?"

She bit her lip, staring at the wall in front of her, as his question hung lingered in the silent air.

* * *

Chapter title's from a song I listened to nearly the entire time writing this: "Ain't No Happy Endings" by Nujabes (RIP :[ ). Love that guy.

So um, yeah! If you haven't died of boredom...you should review. Please?

...No? Dang. Meanie. :(

-Kelsey


	3. Insecurity

Wow! Thanks to missingthepoint, MizzC, insert psuedonym, Darelle the Author, and MissG2020 for the reviews! I'm so glad people like it so far. Hopefully you'll like this one, too. My low self esteem having ass...haha. I really am kidding.

...you know, I think...

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks

* * *

Insecurity

_Do it._

He stared down at the surface of his desk, his hands resting in his lap and his fingers snapping the rubber band around his wrist.

_Snap. Snap. Snap._

The yelling was so loud that he could hear it even if he tried to turn up his stereo. It oozed up out the floor like liquid. It invaded the few peaceful crevices in his mind, tearing into every inch of his consciousness until he could barely decipher the angry words. They all just ran together, smashing together like mush. It didn't matter that he couldn't make it out; he'd heard it all before.

_Snap. Snap. Snap._

She wasn't answering his phone, and he really needed her to. She talked him down. She kept him from crossing the line to a place he didn't want to go, a place that he always swore he'd avoid only to fall back into its tempting clutches. She didn't realize that she was one of his few lifelines, but she was. And when your lifeline wasn't there to save you from drowning, what were you supposed to do?

_Do it._

He couldn't. He shook his head, taking a deep breath and trying to push the thoughts out of his mind. It was insane, completely insane. There were so many moments, so many days, when he felt as if he were watching himself like seeing a movie, only he wasn't there. He was detached. He was so disconnected from who he once was, so confused as to where he was supposed to be, that it just…it got difficult. It got really hard to rediscover how to feel. It got really difficult to remember that he was alive.

But the methods he used to remember…they weren't exactly something doctors would recommend.

_Do it_.

He wouldn't. It wasn't right. There were so many constructive things he could do with his negative energy. He could write, he could listen to music…he could make music!

But wasn't this what was getting him in so much trouble now? Wasn't this exactly why the fighting was so bad? Wasn't this why he was such a disappointment to them and had been conditioned to believe that he was a disappointment himself? The very thing he loved destroyed him. The very thing that was his muse, his passion, was what dug the knife in his chest, the pain so intense until there was nothing. Until he had to frantically find a way to discover his feelings without…

He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. He let his fingers drift to his wrist, tugging on the rubber band so roughly that he could feel the tiny shocks travel up to his shoulder as it bounced against his skin.

_Snap._

The yelling was only getting louder now, and there was no hint of it ceasing anytime soon.

_Snap._

He squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling heavily.

_Snap._

He could try calling her again. He could try locking himself in the closet, letting himself gather his thoughts without the glaring pressure of the objects around him to influence his decision. He could sleep it off, or just…he could breathe. It was about the only thing he _could _do.

_Do it._

Or…he could just listen to the little voice in his head, the tiny whisper that was growing to drown out everything else. How many times had he listened to that whisper, doing what he felt was the only thing he _could _do only to feel worse later? How many times had he sworn he'd never give in?

_Do it._

He didn't have a choice. Maybe some people did. Maybe some people had ways out. But not him. This, _this_…it _was _his way out.

"Okay." He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath to try and calm the erratic pounding of his heart."Okay." He swallowed, staring down at his desk, the lamplight giving everything on the desk a glow. Including the very thing he'd been trying to avoid. He could already feel his reserves, the last of his resistance, fading away as he slowly reached for the pocketknife, his fingers feeling as if electricity surged through them the moment they came in contact with the cold metal. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking another breath.

He'd said he wouldn't do it again. He didn't need to. He didn't _need _this…

_Do it._

He shook his head, slowly rolling up his sleeve.

He knew it was wrong. He knew that this wasn't the way.

But it was _his _way. And for now, it really was all he had.

* * *

When the door opened, she felt her breath catch in her lungs.

The woman who stood in front of her was taller than she'd imagined. And with a twelve hour plane ride she'd had _plenty _of time to imagine.

Her hair was short, cut chin length. Her brown eyes were sharp, hard, and narrowed right at her. Only after a few seconds they seemed to soften. Even if it was five in the morning. Even if, on the chance she agreed, her life was about to completely change.

"Um, hi." She dropped her guitar, mentally cursing. She struggled to adjust her two bags hanging off both shoulders, threatening to make her topple over. "I don't know if we've met. You see I'm…I'm kind of your niece. I'm Moon, ouch, Moon's daughter." One of the straps of her bag caught one of her two braids and she winced, tugging it free. Her hair was so long that she rarely ever wore it out so it _wouldn't _get in the way, yet it was still making her look ridiculous. "Well…I'm one of them. The second one. She has four. Well, she's got four stepdaughters too so I guess that makes eight, but you probably already knew that because you're her sister. Well, unless I have the wrong house…"

She was babbling. Oh, god.

The woman regarded her with a wary expression. She gave up entirely and dropped both bags, letting them roll to the sidewalk.

"The thing is," she said, her face flaming up the way it did whenever anyone depended on her for verbal communication. It wasn't that she was shy. She just really, _really _hated talking. "I know we haven't met. I probably should have called. Well…I definitely should have called. The fact that I _didn't _call is pretty rude." She shook her head. "But I actually couldn't get a hold of your number, and even if I could I don't even think I would have used it. I figured if I called that you'd say no and even tell my dad that I even _thought _about asking you if I could stay up here and that would've just been…that would have ended badly."

Her aunt nodded slowly. She hadn't turned her away but she didn't look too convinced.

"I can get a job." The desperation was practically seeping out of her voice but she couldn't bring herself to care. The woman blinked. "I'll pay you rent. I'll pick up after myself. You won't even notice I'm here. And I have some money now…" She dug into the pocket of her shorts, withdrawing a small stack of bills and holding it out towards the seemingly contemplative woman. "It's not much. I'm sorry it's not, but it's all I have. I just…I can't go back." She shook her head, sighing. "I really, really can't go back."

Her aunt put a hand on her hip, pushing off the doorframe. She lifted her chin.

"You're Mia."

She shook her head. "No. That's my sister-"

"Madison."

She felt her nose wrinkle. Madison was definitely thirteen. She hoped she didn't look like a thirteen year old. Her aunt examined her face, nodding.

"Hayley."

She nodded as well. Her aunt sighed, sweeping her bangs out her eyes.

"Well, what are you doing just standing there?" When she blinked at her in confusion she walked up to her, bending over and grabbing one of her bags. "Got me wasting my air conditioning holding the door open. We don't all have those ocean breezes to keep us cool like in _Hawaii. _If you don't get your butt in this house…"

She slowly smiled. She grabbed her other bag along with her guitar, afraid that her aunt would change her mind.

"Thank you." She paused on the doorstep, glancing over her shoulder. "I know it's an inconvenience, but-"

"Just get in the house." The woman seemed to be caught between annoyance and drowsiness. She cringed, turning back around to head inside.

"I'll be seventeen in December. The seventeenth, actually." She grasped her bag in her hand, giving her estranged relative a nervous look. "So, I've only got a bit over a year until I'm eighteen. The day I'm legal, I'm gone." The woman stared at her. "I don't want to…well…" she gestured around the organized home. "Mess up everything."

Her aunt sighed, dropping the bag beside the door. She stepped up to her, surprising the girl by pulling her into a brief hug. Before she even realized it was happening the moment was over and she was straightening again, resting her hands on the younger girl's shoulders.

"Let's just worry about today." She pat her back, stepping past her and stretching as she wandered into the dimly lit house. She started up the stairs before calling over her shoulder.

"There's three empty bedrooms. Pick one." She rested her hand on the stair railing. "You don't need to pay rent, but if you knew how to cook I'd love that. God knows I can't." She yawned, waving her hand tiredly. "Feel free to wash a dish or sweep a floor once in awhile. I work grave shift down at the hospital in Baltimore. You're lucky I was off last night. You won't see me much during the day unless I'm not sleeping. You'll rarely see me at night. It would be like living on your own most days. I hope that's not a problem."

She nodded earnestly. Her aunt ran a hand through her hair.

"I'll register you for school tomorrow. Well…later today. So I suggest you get your four hours of sleep and be ready by nine thirty."

"School?" She blinked. "Today?"

"District's first day." Her aunt's voice was dry. "You picked a good day to come. And you barged in here without warning so I don't think you should-"

"I'm not complaining," she said quickly, shaking her head. Her aunt nodded, appraising her with a look.

"If your parents _happen _to call," she said plainly, making the girl cringe. "I won't lie to them. I'll tell them where you are and it will be up to them. Whatever happens is what happens." She shrugged. "But for now, you stay. Fine?"

_Not fine._

"Okay."

"Good." She pointed up the stairs. "My room's first door on the left. Like I said, pick one." She started up the stairs. "I'm going back to sleep. Nine thirty. Sharp."

"Gotcha." Her aunt's footsteps faded and she sighed, slumping against the wall and trying to calm the erratic beating that her heart was currently doing.

She'd made it. On the off chance her parents _would _think to look for her in some suburban town outside of Baltimore, Maryland, she might not be free for so long. But for the time being it was all she had.

She swallowed, picking up her things and starting up the stairs.

* * *

"It is _too damn early _to be doing this!"

"I don't wanna go! I ain't goin' to no school!"

"Shut up." Huey pushed Riley into the passenger seat of Dorothy and slammed the door shut before walking around the car. He rolled his eyes as he slid into the driver's seat. "No one told you to stay out until _three _when you knew you had to wake up at six thirty. What were you even _doing _that late? Everything closes by nine."

"Don' worry bout all dat. And why's we takin' Dorothy?" Riley pointed towards the other car in the driveway. "What's wrong wit yo car?"

"It's not mine anymore." Huey put the keys in the ignition, adjusting the mirrors. "Grandad gave me Dorothy."

Riley's jaw dropped. "Nuh uh!" When Huey didn't say anything he sat up. "Damn! Well, can I have yo old car?"

"Hell no."

"Wat yo ass gon do wit it?"

"It ain't mine anymore. I sold it." Huey put on his seatbelt while Riley gaped at him.

"So you can't even look out fo yo own brotha? Dat ain't even _fair_."

"With all the money I put into that thing? Someone was gonna pay me something." He nodded towards him. "Put on your seatbelt."

"What? Hell _naw_…OW!" Huey had put the car in reverse, backing out the driveway and slamming on the brakes so that Riley flew into the dashboard. "Nigga wat is _wrong _wit you?"

"Just put on your seatbelt, Riley. I am _not _in the mood."

Riley shot him a dirty look before obediently putting on his seatbelt. He rubbed his forehead as Huey put the car in drive and they started down the street.

"So, wat made Grandad give up Dorothy anyway?" Riley shook his head, yawning. "He said he won't never gon let us drive her."

Huey shrugged. "He said he won't need her anymore."

"Why the hell not?"

"Why the hell are you asking me like I know?" Huey snapped. Riley gave him a look before scowling, turning to stare out the window.

"Whateva." He slouched in his seat, tugging his hat down over his eyes. "Wish yo ass would graduate an go somewhere so you can be a bitch to somebody else."

Huey shook his head. "Whatever."

"So, who you sell tha car to?" Riley asked, his head in his hand. Huey stopped at a stoplight.

"Tom and Sarah."

"Word?" Riley sat up, shoving his hat up. "So, you can sell tha car you spent tha _entire _summa customizin' ta our wack ass neighbors, but you can't even save it fo yo own brotha? Dat's _messed up_, Huey. You know ima get mah license in June!"

"I already told you." The light turned green and he pulled forward. "They paid me. They paid me more money than the car's even _worth_. Hell no I wasn't gonna save it for you."

"But they already _got _two cars!"

"Well, it isn't for them." He rolled his eyes. "They're giving it to Jazmine for her seventeenth birthday."

"Hol up, hol up." Riley shook his head. "Soooo you givin' tha car you coulda gave to yo brotha to some broad you don't even talk to…OW!" He rubbed his head, glaring as Huey put his hand back on the steering wheel.

"She's not a broad, and I'm not _giving _anything to her. Her _parents _are. They _purchased _the car from me, therefore it's no longer mine. So I'm not _giving _her the car, I just made it obtainable for her to receive it as a gift from her _parents_. Not me."

Riley blinked. "Sooo…you givin' her tha car."

Huey grit his teeth. "Yes, Riley." His voice was flat. "I'm giving her the car."

"You's a good one." Riley snorted, leaning back in his seat again. "I barely wanna share a bag of Fritos wit sum ho. The hell ima give her a car for-"

"She isn't a ho, and I'm not…whatever."

"Damn, nigga. You defendin' her mad hard."

"Because not all women are hos or broads." The eldest Freeman shook his head. "One day you'll see that."

"Man, fuck dat shit!" Riley waved his hand towards him. "Nigga, please. Dis Reezy you talkin bout! Esco don't let no woman faze him! Tha only thing he got time for is dat paper!"

"Stop talking. Please."

"Or what?"

"Or you can walk the rest of the way to school."

Riley smacked his lips, but didn't say anything else. Instead he folded his arms over his chest, glaring out the windshield. For a few minutes the car was silent.

And then Riley, being Riley, had to break it.

"But forreal tho. Why Grandad let _you _get Dorothy?"

Huey sighed, shrugging. "He just said he wouldn't need it for much longer and that someone might as well use her."

"I wonder what he meant by dat." Riley's face took on a rare thoughtful look. "He ain't gon need it much longer". Watchu think he was talkin bout?"

Huey forced himself to shrug, his features never changing.

"I don't know." The car got quiet again. "I have no idea."

* * *

Ed Wuncler Senior High School, founded in 1964, consisted of 2,101 students.

The students were inventive, imaginative, inspired. They were driven.

"Ouch!"

They were also clumsy.

"That's why yo ass a tuba player an not a damn football player!" Riley yelled, hurling the football that had smacked him in the back of the head back at its owner, Walter. It hit him square in the face, causing him to fall over. "Shit! Esco ain' playin wit you!"

"Riley, cut it out." Caesar grabbed his collar, rolling his eyes and glancing towards his friend, Hiro Otomo. He himself was tapping a pair of drumsticks against the row of lockers they were standing in front of. "See what I have to deal with?"

"What?"

"Nothin, man." Caesar leaned against the lockers as well, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking around. "Is it just me or does everyone seem…smaller?"

"Nah. We just gettin' old." Hiro continued tapping away, not even aware of the dark haired girl sneaking up behind him. "Can you believe it's already been three years since we first walked through them-"

"ROOF!"

"Ah!" He dropped the sticks, glaring towards a grinning Maya as they clattered to the floor. "Damn!"

"Oh, boo hoo." She bent down, retrieving them and handing them to him. "What's good, party people?"

"Party my ass." Caesar yawned. "It's seven thirty, it's the first day of school…did I mention it's seven thirty?"

"I think you might have thrown that in there." She arched her eyebrow towards Riley, who was making weird faces towards some sophomore. "Um, if that's the Mack daddy face, I suggest you keep working on it."

"Man, ain' nobody ask yo ass!" Riley glared at her over his shoulder. "Lookin like a damn-"

"I'd watch those words unless you _want _that hat to become a permanent part of your body." Maya rolled her eyes. "I don't have time to be arguing with children-"

"_Chil'ren_? Nigga, I ain't no child!"

"And I ain't ignorant so don't call me out my name!"

"Well! Someone's grumpier than their usual grumpy self!" Hiro gave Maya a knowing look. "Mad about the sister thing?"

"Sister thing?" Caesar glanced around. "What sister thing?"

Maya rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.

"The Kat's-so-smart-she-skipped-seventh-and-eighth-grade sister thing."

"Oh, word? I mean, ohhhh." Caesar shook his head at Maya's scowl. "Your little sister excelling in life is _baaaad_."

"Don't play me, _Michael_." She shrugged. "It's just annoying! Now I gotta drive her to school and make sure no one picks on the twelve year old freshman-"

"I'm sure when they realize she's _your _sister, even the janitor won't try to mess with her." Hiro smirked at her grumpy face. "If you drove her to school then where is she?"

"Oh, she overslept, so I left her ass." Maya waved her hand, smirking. "She can catch the bus."

"You," Hiro said, shaking his head. "Are a horrible person."

"And you're still so surprised." She rested a hand on his shoulder. "I was sure you would have realized it by now." She made a face, lifting her hand. "Hiro. Why the _hell _are you wearing a sweatshirt? It's almost eighty degrees outside and it ain't even eight yet!"

He tugged at his sleeves, shrugging. "I'm cold."

She snorted, shaking her head. "You _stay _cold."

"Who stay cold?"

"Cindy!" Caesar and Hiro cheered as the blond walked up, Jazmine at her side. "Jazzy!"

"Sup?" Cindy yawned, nodding towards Maya. "Johansen."

Maya's nose wrinkled in disdain. "McPhearson." She glanced past her to Jazmine. "Hey, Jazmine."

She waved. "Hey!"

"So, should the schedule comparing begin?" Caesar asked, breaking out a folded sheet of paper. The others nodded but Jazmine shook her head.

"No point. I've gotta get it switched."

"Oh, my god." Cindy rolled her eyes. "Caesar. Hiro. _Please _tell her that switching from Jazz Band to SAT prep is a dumbass idea."

"Damn!" both of them shouted in unison, giving her looks of disbelief. She shrugged, her schedule clutched in her hand.

"My daddy wants me to!"

"Cut the umbilical cord, please." Maya broke out her cell phone, glancing at the screen. "Last time I checked he's _done _with school. You do you."

"Thank you." Cindy gestured to the girl. "Even _she _knows that."

Maya snapped her phone shut, her eyes narrowing.

"What the hell does that even mean?"

"You should take it, Jazzy fresh." Hiro began tapping his drumsticks on the lockers again. "There's only one class and it's last period. And Ceez and I are both in it."

"Yeah!" Caesar snapped his fingers. "The teacher's mad chill. We're trying to get a band together. You could be in it."

"A _band_?" Maya snorted. "What is this, _High School Musical_?"

"Um,_ High School Musical _is about the _drama department_, Maya." Cindy snorted as well. "Shows how much you know."

"Shows what a loser you are that you bothered _correcting _that." Maya rolled her eyes. "The point is, high school bands are-"

"Well, we ain't gon _be _like those other wack ass bands." Hiro lifted his chin. "We will be combining the elements of hip hop, soul, and contemporary into a well balanced blend that will accompany Caesar's lyrical flow."

Everyone blinked at him. Then, they burst out laughing. Jazmine, who was the first to recover, shrugged.

"As great as I think that is, what would I _do _in Jazz band?"

"Um, hello? Piano?" Caesar gave her a "duh" look. "Aren't you the one who's been taking lessons since you were six?"

"Yeah…" Jazmine rubbed her arm self consciously. "I don't know." When he blinked at her she sighed. "Okay, this whole my-dad's-running-for-senator thing? Well, it's kind of turned into Jazmine-better-not-screw-up-otherwise-he-could-lose-the-election-and-it-would-be-all-her-fault."

"Really?" Hiro made a face. "That sucks and all but…what does being in a band have to do with you fucking up?"

"A band wouldn't look like the best of extracurricular activities. No offense," she added quickly. "But daddy always associates bands with tattoo-having-drug-doing-dropouts." They shrugged.

"Well, you could at least do Jazz Band anyway."

"We'll see."

Hiro opened his mouth to reply, only he was suddenly being tapped by a person who made Maya groan.

"Hey, Hiro!" Maya's younger sister gave him a bright smile.

"Hey, Karinne." Unlike the others, who Karinne tended to ignore or avoid like the plague, she was always willing to talk to Hiro. Probably because he was much more decent to her than her own sister. Sure enough…

"Can you tell me where Algebra two is?" she asked, holding up her schedule and pointing to a line. "I tried to ask Maya and she told me it was back where I came from. And then she imitated loading a shotgun."

Hiro rolled his eyes, giving Maya a look. She shrugged, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. He sighed, taking the page from her and glancing at it.

"Yeah. I've gotta go that way anyway."

"See you at lunch!" Caesar said. Hiro waved his hand. Karinne glanced over her shoulder to give Maya a glare.

"And thanks for waking me up for school!" she said in a mock friendly voice before turning back around. "_Asshole_."

"Yeah, whatever." Maya rolled her eyes. Jazmine blinked.

"Can I ask why you're so mean to your thirteen year old sister?"

"Okay, for one, she's _twelve._"

"Ooh. That's so much better," Cindy said, shaking her head.

Maya opened her mouth to reply but stopped as her phone went off. She went into her purse to find it, dug it out, checked the screen, and sighed. "Gotta go. Bitch owes me money."

"Um…okay…" Cindy and Caesar blinked as she rounded the corner. They glanced at each other, shaking their heads.

"One day she's going to end up in jail." Cindy snorted. "And I'm going to laugh and say "Told you so"."

"Well, me or Hiro's gonna be the one bailing her out, so I won't be." Caesar waved, starting down the hallway as well. "Peace."

"I'd better go, too." Jazmine frowned. "The line in the guidance office is so long it's _sad_. It's like they messed up everyone's schedules on _purpose_." She shook her head, turning on her heel and starting through the crowd. "See ya later."

"Deuces!" After a few moments she glanced around and noticed that Riley had left ages ago, which meant she was the only one standing in the middle of the hallway. She groaned.

"Why does everyone always leave _my _ass?" She turned on her heel, heading for her first class.

* * *

It was _too many black people._

Okay, too many people in general. But it was the black people being the most loud and obnoxious, so they seriously needed to go.

The guidance counselor's office felt like a furnace. It was chock full of tired, irritable, pissed off students who all insisted about telling whoever was in earshot how tired, irritable, and pissed off they were.

"Man, why da _fuck _ya'll niggas only got one counselor for our one hundred asses? Dis dat ol _bullshit_!"

And…they were starting again.

Jazmine sighed, staring at the course catalog and trying not to fall asleep. Heat always made her tired and with all these people it was _definitely _hot. She could feel her already puffy ponytail poofing up even worse. She thought about how she'd have to sit at the back of all her classes just to avoid hearing people yell at her to get her afro out the way of the projector.

It wasn't _her _fault her hair hated her!

"Come here often?"

She cracked open an eye to see Huey flopping down in the available chair beside hers, beating out a good seven people who had been shoving for the seat. She shrugged, yawning sleepily.

"You're talking to me. In public." She closed her eyes again, resting her chin in her hand. "I'm impressed."

"It's only because everyone's too damn hot or mad to notice who's paying attention to who." He fanned himself with his own course catalog, shaking his head. "When they call names I swear it's like people are winning the lottery."

"Because everyone's ready to _leave_." Jazmine let her catalog drop to her lap. "So, you gonna have fun in remedial Biology with the kiddy sophomores?"

Huey snorted. "You think you're funny."

"A little." She looked away, staring down at her book and scratching her nails against the edges.

While she and Huey had been dating for seven months, to the rest of the world they were two people who couldn't stand each other and were flying as solo as Kraft singles. In the beginning it had made much more sense not to tell anyone; her dad was constantly being put off by Huey's lack of respect for authority figures, his past "domestic terrorist" status, and multiple suspensions due to trying to "dethrone the tyrant white man"…which wasn't fair, considering that he hadn't even been suspended since sophomore year. Now he just got detention.

…A lot.

Also, there were the stupid people at their school who were about as nice as vultures. They found any weakness that someone had and turned it against them. They found something that they enjoyed and came up with ways to bring them down. It was funny how in reality most schools were _nothing _like the ones in movies with the hierarchy of elite students, then the regular ones, then the losers, and so forth. Their school, sadly, was not one of them. On the contraire, it just might have been worse.

And, Huey had pointed out, while he himself could easily take multiple student's insults like a grain of salt, Jazmine could barely handle someone criticizing her hair without tearing up. So with that and her dad's disapproval, the idea of dating in secret had come up.

Which, admittedly, was a bit of an adventure. But at the same time she got tired of having to pretend that they were indifferent towards each other or that they didn't even like each other very much. It got old having to walk on the opposite side of the hallway, keeping your eyes trained on a focal point just so you wouldn't look at each other for a second too long. And it was annoying having to watch other girls try and flirt with him and not be able to do anything about it (even if the way he rejected them was quite humorous).

Considering that they were supposed to be sooo indifferent towards each other it was funny how well he knew her. Jazmine glanced over to Huey as he shook out a newspaper, holding it up so that it shielded his face as if he were reading it.

"You're upset."

It wasn't even a question. She opened her mouth to respond, only she was interrupted by the guidance counselor's voice shouting over the chaos.

"Thompson! Forrest! Merlin!" she shouted. There was a series of cheers, followed by a loud chorus of boos and a series of yelling.

"GODDAMMIT!"

"DIS DAT OL BULLSHIT, YA DRIED UP NIGGAS!"

"It's hot as a _bitch _in here!"

"Then close your damn mouths," Huey mumbled, causing Jazmine to snicker. He glanced back at her. "But seriously. You are."

She made a face, shrugging. "I'm not upset. More like…" when she let her words trail off helplessly he shook his head, rolling his eyes and turning the page.

"You're upset _and _a bad liar."

"It's just…frustrating." She sat up, staring at the floor so she wouldn't look so obvious. "It's really frustrating."

"You're not the only one frustrated," he pointed out. She snorted.

"You sure? Because it kind of seems like it."

As soon as the words left her mouth she felt kind of bad. After all, she was the one who had agreed to it. She felt him give her a look but kept her eyes on the floor, clasping her hands together and feeling like a baby. He was always the mature one. She was the whiny, emotional one who always had something to complain to him about. No wonder he didn't want anyone to know they were going out.

"Okay," she heard him say. "Your birthday's Friday. We could go somewhere you want to go. Anywhere." When she looked at him, her eyebrows lifting, he rolled his eyes. "Anywhere around here where we risk everyone and their grandma seeing us together."

She felt her face brighten. "Really?"

"Anything to get you to stop moping…ow!" She'd stepped on his foot, shooting him a dirty look. "Jazmine, what the hell?"

"I wasn't mopey!"

"You were definitely mopey."

"Was not."

"Was too."

"Not."

"You were."

"Nuh-uh."

"I'm not going to argue about this."

Jazmine shook her head, turning away so he wouldn't see her laughing. Despite his cold exterior and lack of an emotional intelligence he was impossible to have ill feelings towards.

"You mean it?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Anywhere I wanna go?" When he nodded her eyebrow shot up. "You promise?"

He sighed. "I said I would, wouldn't I?"

"But you gotta _promise_."

"Fine." He looked bored. "I promise that wherever Jazmine Dubois wants to go for her seventeenth birthday, I will take her. Even if the queen of England is there. Even if your own father's there. Even if Darth Vader, Dick Cheney, and Gary Coleman are there along with every member of the basketball team."

Jazmine blinked. "You…could've just said yes."

"I was making sure I covered all the bases."

One of the secretary's voices sounded again.

"Tate! Dawson! Freeman!"

"No fair." Jazmine pouted as Huey got his things together, rising to his feet. There were more groans and boos. "I got here first."

He smirked. "You got a _seat _first. I was here a full twenty minutes before you."

"Lucky." Jazmine rested her chin in her hand again. "Have fun with the sophomores."

He rolled his eyes. "Enjoy Jazz band." No sooner had he walked off did another girl flop down in his now vacant seat, flipping her honey blond hair over her shoulders and glancing towards Jazmine, who blinked back.

"What are you lookin' at?"

Jazmine rolled her eyes, looking away. "Not you."

There was a surprised pause, as if the girl hadn't been suspecting someone to be anything but a suck up. Then, a small laugh.

"I like your style."

Jazmine blinked, giving her a look. She had style? She glanced down at her outfit, ordinary compared to the things most girls wore to school. Her hair was a mess. If by style she meant hot mess, then sure. Why not?

"Um, thanks-"

"Eason! Dubois! Lawrence!"

Relieved, Jazmine bolted up, grabbing her bookbag. Before she could start forward the girl spoke up.

"Dubois." She said the name slowly, as if processing it. "Chemistry club Dubois?"

"Uh…maybe." Well. Prepare to get joked into next week in three…two…one…

"Sweet. Brains." The girl gave her a glance over. "The beauty part's there…but needs work."

She was not here to get slammed by some girl. "Thanks." Her voice was dry. She turned around again but the girl's voice stopped her.

"The name's Dory." She shrugged casually. "Dory Chandler. If you feel like changin' it up a bit…you hit me up."

_Right_. "Okay." Jazmine walked away, rolling her eyes.

Okay, she didn't wear heels and she memorized Chemistry formulas for fun. And? Suddenly she needed a beauty intervention?

Whatever. The moment she stepped into the counselor's office she forgot all about the girl as well as her words.

* * *

Cindy was probably the weirdest female _ever_, but she loved P.E.

Really, she did! She couldn't get enough it. Feeling the dull ache in her chest rise to a burn as her endurance was tested when running, being satisfied at the fact that she was hot and sweaty at the end of class. It was great. Maybe it was because she was a sports nerd, but whatever.

So, she was the only female _not _complaining when class was over and they were all heading to the showers, being that she'd spent the entire class that wasn't devoted to stupid syllabi and the same rules they got informed about every year playing basketball with the boys. Someone opened their locker and turned on some Lupe Fiasco on their radio they'd brought as everyone headed for the showers, laughing and talking about the day's events. She herself took the elastic out of her hair, shaking it out and grabbing a towel, going to the showers as well.

"…and that bitch just needs to get a damn grip. Or laid. Or both." A thin brunette was standing by the showers with a group of girls, her towel wrapped around her. She flipped her hair, smirking as the others burst out laughing. Cindy rolled her eyes, finding an empty tap and turning on the water. Girls like them were the reason she only ran with boys, other than Jazmine and a few others. That was probably only because almost all _their _friends were boys as well. She stepped under the spray, sighing and trying to make out the music over the noise of the water while ignoring the others at the same time.

"Oh, Cindy! Cynthia!" she suddenly heard, making her groan. She rolled her eyes again, glancing over her shoulder and never moving from under the water. The brunette was staring her way, the others doing the same. "And how was your summer?"

No wonder Huey and Caesar were always talking about white people. They could be ridiculously annoying. And this was coming from a white person.

"Good," she said, just loud enough to be heard, before turning away. She heard a series of whispers before the girl was clearing her throat.

"I see you still like being one of the guys!" she yelled, causing the others to burst out laughing. Cindy snorted, looking at her again.

"And I see you still have shitty insults." Her smile slipped off her face. "Oh, well. Some people _don't _change." She turned around again, beginning to wash her hair. There was mumbling behind her but she ignored it, turning off the water and wringing out her hair before wrapping her towel around her. She grabbed her stuff, staring back to the lockers and passing the other girls. As she passed by them she heard a giggle, followed by a whisper.

"Someone was hitting up the buffets over the summer."

Cindy stopped, slowly glancing towards the giggling girls. "S'cuse me?"

One of the others, a redhead, snickered. "What was that?"

"Whatever." Cindy shook her head, walking away. "I don't got time to mess with ya'll idiots-"

"Because you gotta make sure you make it to lunch, right?" one of them called after her. Her eyes narrowed. "Get them extra servings in? _Fattie_-"

Cindy spun around, hurling her deodorant at the offender and hitting her square in the forehead. Everyone in eyesight burst out laughing as the girl cupped her head, wincing and giving her a dirty look.

"Say one more thing," Cindy snapped over the laughter. "Say one more goddamn thing so I can kick your ass and _show _you what those extra servings do for me." They didn't say anything. "Ooh, ya'll got quiet real quick. Sure do gotta lotta shit to say when someone's back's turned." She shook her head, continuing to her locker. "Stupid asses."

She got dressed, throwing her towel in the basket with the others and gathering her things. As she walked out the locker room she glanced into the mirror, her eyes narrowing.

She hated females. They didn't have anything better to do than tear at one another to feel better about themselves. She shook her head, starting for the door…but she couldn't help but look into the mirror again. After a few seconds she snorted, tearing her eyes away and yanking the door open.

They were just immature. Immature and shallow and stupid…

As she walked to her next class, navigating through the crowded halls, she couldn't help but unconsciously tug at the hem of her shirt.

* * *

Riley continued to doodle on his notebook, ignoring the teacher's rambling about whatever-the-fuck he was talking about and slouching in his desk.

Man, fuck school. Fuck class. What was the point? He already knew he won't going to college. If he hated regular school so much why the hell would he pay someone else to go to get an education? Fuck that shit. He glanced up as he heard someone shouting at him.

"Mr. Freeman!"

"Huh?" He felt everyone's heads swivel towards him and sucked his teeth, looking around. "Man, what the hell ya'll lookin' at?"

"Could you just answer the _question_, Mr. Freeman?" The teacher sighed, looking bored. Riley rolled his eyes.

"Man, nigga, I don' know the answer!" Everyone burst out laughing and he ignored them, smacking his lips. "Why tha hell you gon ask _me _to tell you the answer and mofos raisin' they hand out tha yin yang? You blind?"

There was more laughter. The teacher rolled his eyes, smacking his palm across his forehead.

"I was warned about you," he mumbled. "Riley Freeman, the unteachable student."

"Ain' nobody ask bout wat you heard. Fuck wat you heard!"

"Should we just go ahead and move your desk to the principal's office?"

"I'd rather look at his ass than hear you talk me ta death!"

"Ooh!" a group of people chorused, giggling. The teacher slammed his ruler on the desk, making everyone fall silent.

"Class is dismissed early today."

The other students began cheering, picking up their books and racing out the room. Riley began to get up but the teacher marched towards his desk, making a cutthroat motion with his hand.

"Not _you_, Mr. Freeman. You stay right there."

"You ain' tha boss of me!" Riley started to rise again but the teacher grabbed his shoulder, pushing him back down. "Aye, nuh uh! Hol' up, nigga-"

"You listen to me, Freeman." The teacher leaned down so that his nose was inches from Riley's own. "I've got all the horror stories, anecdotes…you _name _it, on your ass. And I'm going to tell you right here and right now that you lucked out. You do _not _deserve to be a sophomore. You barely deserved to be a freshman!"

Riley's jaw dropped. "Watchu-"

"I'm _not _done speaking!" the teacher hissed, glaring. Riley was so surprised that he didn't say anything. "You are the drain on society that holds back those willing to make something of their lives. If you feel that this isn't the right setting for you, then that's fine. But don't you _dare _keep those who want to learn from doing so."

"Or watchu gon do?" Riley leaned forward, placing his palms on the desk. "Huh? You gon kick me out? You gon send me to tha principal? You think I curr?"

"I don't give a damn _what _you care about. You obviously have no discipline, no self control, no motivation-"

"You don't know me!"

"I don't _have _to know you. I know enough people like you to draw my conclusions." The teacher shook his head. "I am not the others you've had. I will _not _tolerate your crap. You give me a reason, _any reason_, to get you transferred to alternative school and-"

"Nigga, what?" Riley bolted up. "You gon send me ta _alternative school_?"

"Whatever it takes," the teacher said coldly. "To make you get a clue." When Riley blinked at him, stunned into silence, he went on. "I taught your brother two years ago and he is-"

"Here we go." Riley rolled his eyes, plopping his chin in his hand. "Like I ain't heard dis from mah other teachers; Huey Freeman is a smart nigga. Whoopdee doo."

"Huey Freeman, unlike you, has a _future_."

"Hol' up-"

"You "hol' up"." The teacher made quotation marks with his fingers, rolling his eyes. "It is what it is. Your brother is going places and you can't even manage to _go_. Well, if you don't get it together you'll be busing it to Baltimore City Alternative School. You want to act like you're too good for education? You want to act big and bad and not care? Well, I'll make sure they send you somewhere where _no one _cares." The teacher's eyes narrowed. "Do I make myself clear?"

Riley glared up at him, his hazel irises smoldering.

"Do I make myself _clear_, Mr. Freeman?"

Riley rolled his eyes. "_Yeah_," he ground out bitterly. The teacher nodded, turning on his heel and heading swiftly down the walkway.

"Good." He walked out the room, slamming the door behind him. Riley shook his head, folding his arms over his chest.

Man, _fuck _that old nigga. He ain't know what he was talking about. He _did _have a future. He just ain't know what he wanted to do! But that ain't mean he didn't have a future. That was straight up _disrespectful_!

"Alternative school? Dat nigga crazy." Riley stood to his feet, grabbing his empty backpack and swinging it over his shoulder. He paused before lifting his foot and kicking his desk over. He watched in satisfaction as it crashed to the floor, crashing loudly against the tile.

"_Fuck _this school!" he snapped, stomping out the room and slamming the door as well. He started down the hallway, snorting. "I don' need no damn school. I don' need no damn body!"

To prove his point, he threw open the front doors, walking into the sunshine and heading home.

* * *

Man. I do looooooong chapters. I'll look at the word count on everyone else's completed stories and it'll be half of my _ongoing _ones. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. Oh, well. It is what it is.

Yay? Nay? Keep going? Stop while you still have your dignity? Tell meeeeeeeeeee.

Oh! And, as usual, thank you very much for reading :)

-Kelsey


	4. The Era of Innocence

So, this entire chapter's definitely been done for a week. Why did I not put it up?

...Because I had to finish the last three sentences.

...

...IKNORITE?

Anyway, thanks to MizzC, MissG2020, missingthepoint, and TRIGGER MIKE THE GREAT for the reviews! So, here's another chapter for anyone who still cares...lol

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks

* * *

The Era of Innocence

Sometimes, it took being completely blindsided to notice that your life was heading in a direction you didn't want it to go. Sometimes, it took realizing that things just weren't going to work the way they were.

Sometimes, it took the end of an era. The end of carefree innocence. The end of life as you knew it.

Sometimes, it just took more than you expected.

She really hadn't been expecting her mother's car to be sitting in the driveway when she walked up after school, yet it was the first thing she noticed when she lifted her head from changing the song on her iPod to spot it sitting there. Her eyebrow lifted.

When she was fourteen, she'd been angry at how often her parents worked and left her home alone. They'd bought her a flat screen for her room to make up for it. When she was fifteen she'd gotten her own laptop so she wouldn't have to use the desktop downstairs. When she was sixteen she'd gotten her own credit card. They bought her things, and it was a lot easier to have so much to distract her from the fact that she _did _spend ninety percent of her time alone…but it didn't change the fact that she was _still, _in the end, exactly that. Alone.

Then again, it was easier to be alone with a shitload of cool things than alone with nothing, so she supposed she couldn't complain too much. She shrugged, going over to the mailbox and grabbing the mail before closing it back, slowly starting up the driveway and digging out her key.

People who didn't know her called her spoiled. People who _did _know her called her lucky, privileged, fortunate. Sometimes, if annoyed enough, they joined the flanks of others and called her the dreaded "s word". Spoiled. Sometimes they dared call her "entitled". If she got anyone angry enough, which in most cases wound up being Huey, she even got "brat" thrown her way. She couldn't stand it when people even joked around with it. Yeah, she got what she wanted. Sure, her parents weren't exactly lacking in the funds department.

But having everything…did it change that she sometimes felt like she really had nothing at all?

"Stop whining," she told herself aloud, grasping the mail in one hand and the key in the other. As she reached the front door she happened to see movement in one of the windows. She frowned, stepping back.

Her mother was sitting up on the couch, laughing at some point she couldn't see. She made a face.

Well, geez. Her mom _had _to have seen her coming. When she was home she had serious radar for when people were approaching the door. She'd yank it open so quick that it would make a ninja's head spin. Too many times her door opening skills had nearly gotten her and Huey caught to the point she'd have to stop kissing him to shove him into a bush (probably the only time she could get away with/be physically strong enough to push him anywhere). So dang. She couldn't even open the door for a sista? She started to go back to the door, but froze as a second figure appeared.

There were two things that made this so strange. The first thing was that it was a man. A too familiar, way too recognizable man with a strong looking jaw, dark eyes, and dark hair who was smiling down at her mother like he'd just won the showcase showdown on _the Price is Right_.

Which led to the second thing…the man _wasn't _her father.

She felt her breath catch in her throat, felt her eyes widen when he bent down, his eyes closing, just as her mom's own head rose up to meet his. And then, they were kissing.

She felt her lungs deflate like a popped balloon. She swallowed, the tears already springing to her eyes.

She wasn't stupid enough not to know that her parents didn't always get along, that they ran into their rough patches…but she was sure that they always worked them out. After all, they were still together! Was _this _what had her mom so cheerful towards the very marriage she was destroying?

_Holy_…She grabbed her forehead with her hand, the mail falling to the ground. This couldn't be happening. She _had _to be imagining it. Her mom wouldn't do this! She wouldn't do this to her dad, who could be a total goofball but was still a good person! She wouldn't do this to _her_.

Unless…she dropped her hand, struggled to keep the tears threatening to spill at bay. Was her mom sick of them? Was she over her dad? Was she tired of _her_? Had she done something wrong?

As if sensing too late that they weren't alone she saw her mother's head whip up, saw her glance out the window. Her blue eyes froze on the green ones that stared through the window pane. For a moment that seemed to last forever they stared, time seeming to stop in that stance.

In that moment, she knew. She just knew, without a doubt, that nothing would be the same anymore. It was one of those feelings that she rarely got, and when she did they were never wrong.

And then, when her brain starting functioning properly again, when thoughts were beginning to register, when she was sure that it had been established that she knew and that her mother knew she knew and that they were both there just knowing too much and saying _nothing_, she spun on her heel and ran away, as if running fast enough would leave it all behind.

Because, after all, she really had _nothing _to say.

* * *

"So, remind me why we're looking for jobs again?"

"Because I _need _one."

"Okay." Cindy stuck her hands in her pockets, walking alongside Caesar, who was holding a stack of job applications thick enough to be a full length novel. "So, remind me why _I'm _the one looking for a job _you _need again?"

"Because." The dread head sighed, rolling his eyes. "Everybody else has a job. You were the only person I could think of who might go along with it."

"Ooh. The last resort." Cindy flipped her hair over her shoulders. "Ain't I special." When Caesar rolled his eyes again in response she shrugged. "You do know that I don't have a job because I don't _need _one, right?"

"Well." His voice was filled with sarcasm. "Aren't you lucky."

"Yeah, I am." Her own tone was dry. "Having your mother marry and divorce a new man every year for his money brings a very lavish lifestyle."

Caesar glanced at her, making a face. "That's not a very funny joke."

She shrugged again, staring straight ahead. "Then I guess I'm not trying to be very funny."

Both of them fell into a lapse of silence, walking in step and glancing in the various store windows they passed. After a few minutes Cindy cleared her throat.

"So how come you suddenly want a job so bad?"

Caesar frowned, shaking his head.

"Just…want some extra money."

The blond nodded. "Makes sense."

Caesar had different types of friends. There was Huey, who would be his best friend until he took his last breath. There was Hiro, his fellow music loving stick man who was always up for creating some beats. There was Maya, who (when he considered her a friend) was there to make wisecracks at or serve as his wingman in certain situations. Riley was…well, Riley was Riley. The only person he'd remotely get into emotional conversations with was Jazmine, the motherly, compassionate type who seemed to serve as everyone's personal therapist.

Cindy…Cindy had always just been the friend who was as much of a sports nerd as he was. They played basketball in the park at least three times a week. They played soccer most Saturday mornings without fail using the school soccer field unless some other groups beat them to it. They watched boxing matches on TV, made bets on the Super Bowl…she was really just like another one of the guys. But in all that time, they never did too much talking about their personal lives. It was as if they'd silently made a pact to keep them elsewhere.

It wasn't a problem…it just made hearing Cindy's comment that much more surprising. And it made admitting his current predicament that more difficult.

"You could always be the Chuck E. Cheese mascot," he heard Cindy snort. "They're looking for someone."

He sighed. "I'd take it. At this point I'm going to end up resorting to stripping or…" He scratched his head before shrugging. "That's basically my only option."

Cindy laughed, punching his shoulder. "Wow. You are desperate _forreal_."

"Ain't gonna lie. I am."

Cindy bit her lip, thinking of suggestions. "Well…you could always buy shit and then resale it for a higher value to make profit."

Caesar made a face. "I want to make a reliable income, not go to _jail_."

"Well, you should've said that!"

"Whatever, Cindy." They both started around the corner, at least until Caesar yanked Cindy back by her shoulders. She glared at him.

"What the hell-"

"Shh!" Caesar rolled his eyes, poking his head around the corner. Cindy shrugged, doing the same. Her eyes widened.

"Are they…are they doing a _drug deal_?" she hissed loudly. Caesar elbowed her.

"Shut up!" he watched as a tall black man sneakily slid a paper bag towards a white guy, who slipped him a rather large stack of bills. Both men nodded towards each other before turning away from each other, the dealer heading down the alley and the other man coming towards them, so busy pocketing his purchase he didn't notice Caesar and Cindy's heads whip back out of sight. Caesar and Cindy adjusted themselves before briskly walking past the alley, whistle and shoving their hands into their pockets. Once they were a ways down the sidewalk they exchanged looks, Cindy bursting out into giggles. Caesar rolled his eyes.

"I didn't know people _did _that around here!" Cindy laughed. He gave her a look.

"Then where the hell have you been?"

"Not like that." She waved her hand. "I mean, this ain't Baltimore or DC or even Annapolis! This is freakin' _Woodcrest_. And until the name's changed to "Hoodcrest" then I just don't expect to see drug deals! That would be like us having gangs. Or Foot Lockers."

"Well, there was that one time…" Caesar pointed out before shaking his head. "Besides, you should know by now it ain't the area, it's the people. Won't your mom the one who snorted lines at your birthday parties?"

Cindy shot him a dirty look. "Way to bring _that _up, Michael."

"My b! Dang." Caesar shrugged. "All I'm saying is that I'm not surprised. Anyways, that won't even nothing serious. It was _weed_."

"That guy paid _that _much for some Mary Jane?" Cindy let out a low whistle, shaking her head. "Damn. Must be good shit."

"Probably."

They continued walking for a few more seconds before Cindy snapped her fingers, grinning.

"You wanna make some cash?" She jokingly jabbed her thumb behind her shoulder, grinning slyly. "Better get yo hands on some Kush and get the sellin'." She burst out laughing at her own joke, completely missing the look that fell over Caesar's face. After wiping the corner of her eyes she glanced up, frowning.

"Caesar?" When he didn't say anything she snapped her fingers. "Ceez. Aye!"

"Huh?" He stared down at her, shaking his head and blinking. "Cin. You may have just given me the best idea I've had all day."

Cindy's jaw dropped. "What, to sell _drugs_?"

"Um, _yes_?"

She smacked his arm, making him wince and rub the spot. "Caesar, you've got to be out your mind!"

"It's a great idea! Look." He gave her a look when she stared at him in disbelief. "It's not that bad."

"Oh?" She rolled her eyes. "And how would _you _know?"

"It's what most my uncles did for years up in Brooklyn!" he replied. "They made so much money off it _your _mouth would water. And we both know you don't need any more cash."

"That's dumb." She glared at him. "That is the stupidest idea I've ever heard. It's one thing to want some extra money, but selling weed?" She gave him an incredulous look. "You're smarter than that. Come on, you don't need money _that _badly."

A dark look fell over his face, making her blink in surprise. Caesar was one of the most easygoing people she knew. He'd _never _looked this upset.

"You don't know _what _I need," he snapped before wheeling around and continuing down the sidewalk, leaving her to stare at his retreating back.

* * *

Old Man Turner's house stood alone in abandonment at the edge of Woodcrest's oldest neighborhood. It was one of those houses that stood out like an eyesore; everyone else's shutters were freshly painted, their lawns clipped and their flowers beds uniformly standing tall to accent the perfectionism of the homeowner's work. But the old house that had been unlived in since Alfred Turner's death four years back was falling apart. It had been condemned. For some reason, however, the city just wouldn't tear it down. While bad news for the disgruntled neighbors who had to look at the dump, it was excellent news for her.

Maya dropped her backpack on the grass beside her, pulling her hair back into its elastic before glancing up to survey the place. The wooden porch was nearly rotted through, the front door completely missing. It had been bordered up ages ago but some squatters had obviously done away with those. On the chimney, a lone crow sat, cawing into the nearly black sky, minus the nearly vanished patch of blue to the west. She snorted.

"I'd move if I were you, crow."

Of course, he only cawed in response. She shook her head, dropping to her knees and unzipping the book bag. Her mother had been so busy trying to _be _busy to keep her mind occupied that she hadn't even asked where her eldest daughter was going. In fact, that's how it usually was. If anyone was like the authority figure it was Karinne, who always demanded to know where her sister was going. Of course, Maya, refusing to answer to a twelve year old class A asshole, merely plucked her in the forehead and kept it moving. If her own mother didn't give a shit then what made her think for a _second _Maya would answer to her? She sighed as she pulled out a pair of black leather gloves before reaching for a can of gasoline, the top still screwed tightly on top. She set it down beside her, opening the front compartment and pulling out her favorite Zippo lighter.

Okay, she was odd. People liked collecting stamps and she collected lighters. People yelled or hit things to release anger and she set things on fire. And…_sometimes _she also indulged in hitting things or yelling, but it wasn't as effective!

Well, what_ever_. It wasn't like anyone would miss this shithole. Besides, she was a Cancer! She was a fire sign!

…Wait, or were they water signs…?

Man, who the fuck cared? She liked fire. Anyone who didn't like it could suck it. Maya rose to her feet again, glancing towards the sleepy houses around her. Since people in the suburbs were nosy as hell and constantly looking for some new form of gossip she probably wouldn't have too much time to run before she was spotted. Not that it mattered. She was a track star. She held three different all-state records in Maryland as well as back in Detroit when she'd lived there. They could run too, but they'd never catch her. No one ever did.

"Nigga, wat is you _doin_'?"

Maya gasped, her head whipping towards the front porch, where Riley was ducking down. He was wearing all black like herself, a spray paint can in his hand. She frowned, her hand on her hip.

Damn. Didn't this kid _ever _go away?

"I'm minding my own business." She rolled her eyes. "Go somewhere."

"Dis public property! You betta carry dat shit someplace!" Riley sucked his teeth. "Forreal tho. Was is you doin?"

She really couldn't stand him. He was nothing like his older brother, who she'd considered liking until she realized she'd probably wind up choking him one day and getting arrested. Huey Freeman was cool…in doses. Small, _small _doses. Dosage or not, she'd pick being stranded on a desert island with him over his loud mouthed, arrogant, retard of a younger brother who was only good at being a failure.

"_Still _minding my own business." Maya felt a surge of anger pour through her veins. _Damn. It. _She wanted to do this. She _needed _to do this! She felt like she was going to burst at the seams and all she wanted to do was get this over with and he was getting in the _way_. "Can't you go paint your pretty little pictures on another house?"

"Nope. Dis one's closest." Riley frowned, uncapping the can and shaking it. "I ain't walkin' no damn where else. I ain't in tha mood. Today was-"

"Shitty."

Maya hadn't even realized she'd spoken until Riley was giving her a look, his eyebrows raised. She shrugged.

"Well, it was."

He shook his head, glaring at the outer wall of the house angrily. "Did _you_ get threatened with alternative school?"

Maya nearly laughed. "Um, yeah! Like, _Freshmen _year." His head whipped up in surprise. She shook her head. "My probation officer luckily got me out of that on this good behavior thing…it's really fuzzy and a long story, but whatever." She waved her hand. "You're mad about _that_?"

"Yea!" Riley gaped at her. "How you get out dat mess?"

"Easy." She shrugged. "I got better at hiding my crimes."

He didn't say anything. She shifted awkwardly, the wind causing a loose strand of hair to blow into her eyes. Riley glanced past her.

"Wat's with tha kerosene?"

"It ain't kerosene. It's gasoline."

"Ooh." Riley rolled his eyes. "Much betta."

She nodded to him. "What's with the paint?"

"Wat's it look like?" Riley gestured to the house. "Makin mah presence known, son!"

"Nice." She tapped her foot. "Well, could you do that somewhere else?"

"Why can't yo ass do wat you gon do somewhere else?"

"Because I just _can't_, okay?" Maya nearly tugged her hair out in frustration. "Riley, can you, for once in your life, make it a little easier for me to _maybe_ tolerate you?"

Riley snorted, giving her a glance over.

"Like I give a damn watchu think bout me."

Of course he didn't. He wouldn't be Riley if he did. Maya shook her head, her eyes blazing with anger. She picked up the gasoline can, stomping up onto the front porch and stepping over the holes before disappearing inside. She could hear Riley's spraying stop, then a hiss.

"Nigga, wat you doin?"

"For the third time, I am _still _minding my own business!" she snapped, uncapping the can and beginning to pour it over the wooden floorboards that creaked underneath her weight. She saw a shadow fall over her and glanced over her shoulder to see Riley staring down at her, his hazel eyes the size of dinner plates.

"You gon torch dis shit?"

"Um, yeah." She walked further into the darkness, focusing on her work. "I tried to get you to leave, but if you want to burn to a crisp that's not my problem."

"Damn." Riley blinked at her. "You's a bad bitch."

"And you're an annoying one." Satisfied, she rested the can on the end of the oily path and stepped over it, dusting her hands off and navigating back to the doorway, which Riley was standing against. She glanced up at him, remembering back to the time she was actually taller than him. Now he had her by a good four inches. It was a fact that for some reason irritated her even more. "You should go now."

"You ain't gon do it." He stepped back, shaking his head. "Ain't no way-"

She pulled the lighter out of her pocket, flipping open the cover and poising her finger over it. She gave him a look.

"Get _out _of here, Freeman."

He glared at her but moved nonetheless, making her smile in satisfaction. She turned back around, crouching down and taking a deep breath to steady the anxious butterflies in her stomach before flicking the lighter, a bright orange flame shooting up. She carefully ran it over the gasoline, backing up as the fire flared up, quickly zooming towards the back of the house. She jammed the lighter in her pocket, grabbing her backpack and leaping off the porch, running towards the side of the house-

_BOOM_.

The force of the explosion sent her flying back, rolling over in the tall grass. She quickly lifted her head to see the angry flames spiraling towards the sky, already licking through the second story. She sat up, blinking. She felt the familiar, euphoric feeling traveling through her veins, felt the sudden burst of peace that seemed to settle in every crevice. And then, she laughed.

She couldn't help it. It was so illogical, so _insane_, but the flames were just _beautiful_. They were hot, powerful, and out of control. They destroyed whatever was in their path without mercy, with no remorse. It drew its energy from the air around it. It was unstoppable.

And she loved it. For some unknown, undiscovered reason, she loved every second of it.

Suddenly, however, she felt someone's hands tugging her to her feet and she looked up to see Riley glaring down at her as he pulled her away. She felt the peace slowly draining out of her, being replaced by annoyance, once again.

"You dun lost yo damn mind!" he snapped. "I know you hear dem sirens!"

Sure enough, the loud whining of fire trucks was already flaring up. _Damn_. Back in the city you were lucky if you got a fire truck in half an hour. She shook him off her, rolling her eyes.

"See ya."

"Nuh uh!" She mentally groaned as Riley ran beside her, their boots pounding heavily on the sidewalk. "You ain' leavin' my ass back thur!"

"No, but you sure as hell ain't coming with me!" she shot back, shaking her head. "Go somewhere!"

"Nigga, you crazy!" Riley just wasn't letting up. "You is psycho as hell! Watchu go round settin' places on _fire _fo'?"

"Why do you go around painting shit on the sides of buildings?" she snapped, stopping and wheeling around to face him. Since they were a good distance away it was extremely unlikely they'd be caught at that point. He sucked his teeth.

"Man, dat's different-"

"Is it?" She lifted her chin. "I doubt it. You listen, and you listen good." She grabbed his collar, pulling him down to her height. "If you even _think _about ratting me out, I will kick your ass into next century. Don't _play _with me, Freeman."

"If you don get yo damn hands offa me!" Riley threw her wrists aside, rolling his eyes. "Damn, I ain't gon tell nobody. Calm dat shit down."

"Thank you." Behind him she could still see the flames, bright and bold against the black sky. She started to continue down the street. "Good_bye_-"

"Why you do it, tho?" She glanced over her shoulder to Riley, whose eyes were narrowed towards her as if he were really trying to figure it out. She sighed, shaking her head.

"You wouldn't understand." She turned away. "I barely understand myself." She kept going, tucking her hands in her pockets and never looking back.

* * *

Jazmine slowly opened the front door that night, peeking around before reluctantly stepping in, gently shutting the door behind her and tugging off her shoes so that she could sneak up the stairs, unnoticed. When she heard rapid footsteps coming from the kitchen, however, she knew that wasn't going to work out in her favor.

"Jazmine!" her mother, Sarah Dubois, stopped a few feet in front of her, resting a hand on her chest and sighing in relief. "Thank _god_. Honey, I called you."

Jazmine straightened, frowning. "I know."

"Where have you been?"

_'The park. Crying. The hill. Crying more. None of your damn business.'_

"Around."

Sarah stared at her, her blue eyes filled with guilt. Jazmine let her eyes drop, her ears perking up at the sound of her stereo thumping from upstairs.

"Cindy's here."

Sarah nodded. "She is."

"Okay." Jazmine started for the stairs.

"Wait." Sarah's voice was soft. "Can you just…" Jazmine glanced over her shoulder and watched her run her hands over her face. "Can we just talk about what you…_saw _this afternoon?"

Jazmine glared. "No."

"I…I didn't want you to find out this way." Sarah was on the verge of tears. "I-"

"Mom." Jazmine snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "That…was the senator."

"I know, but-"

"_Mom_." She gave her a look, gripping the stair railing. "You were with the _senator_."

"Just-"

"I want to go to my room." She was going to start crying again, and she really didn't want to. She could already feel the lump rising in her throat, could feel the sadness creeping back. Sarah sighed.

"Okay."

She nodded, continuing up the stairs.

"Jazmine." She stopped again, slowly turning around. "I…I have no right to ask anything of you. I know I don't. And I am so, so sorry." Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, shook her head. "But please. _Please_. Just, keep this between us."

She felt like she'd been slapped. Her jaw dropped as Sarah looked up at her with a pleading expression.

"You want me to _lie _to dad?"

"I want to tell him myself." She ran a hand through her hair. "When the time's right."

Jazmine blinked at her, already feeling the anger fade away. She was just…she didn't even know how to feel. It was just too much. She sighed, her shoulders slumping, as if she couldn't believe the words coming out of her own mouth.

"Okay."

Sarah sighed, relieved. Jazmine couldn't help but hate her for it. She got to be relieved. _She _got to feel okay, whereas she wasn't even sure she'd feel okay ever again. Without another word she ran up the stairs, walking down the hallway and pushing her door open.

Cindy was sprawled out on Jazmine's bed, reading a magazine and singing along to the stereo, the music so loud she wasn't even aware that Jazmine had come in.

"IMA HOLD MY BREATH UNTIL YA FEEL IT IN YO CHEST WHEN I GO UNDAAAAAAAA. UNDAAAAAAAAA-"

Jazmine's mom was having an affair and Cindy was singing Pleasure P. The world sure did work in funny ways.

She closed the door, dropping her backpack to the floor and pushing it aside with her foot. Cindy's head whipped up and she grinned, sitting up.

"I was wondering when yo black ass would get home-" She took a look at Jazmine's face and frowned, tossing the magazine aside. "Whoa, emo kid." She hopped up to turn the volume down. "What's wrong?"

Jazmine shook her head, already feeling her nose begin to clog. Cindy shook her head.

"That's not the nothing face."

She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Finally she just settled on shrugging, letting out a little sniffle. Cindy winced, sitting back down on the bed and watching as Jazmine burst into tears all over again. She looked like she wanted to cry for her best friend herself.

"You need a hug?"

Jazmine sniffed and nodded, crawling onto the bed and flopping down, letting Cindy wrap her arms around her slender form. She buried her face in her hair, sobbing. Cindy pat her back, sighing.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head. Cindy paused.

"Okay." She stroked her hair, hugging her tighter. "We don't gotta talk about it." She rested her chin on top of Jazmine's head. "Well, I'm your best friend and I love you. It doesn't matter what anybody else does."

Jazmine squeezed her eyes shut. Usually, that would be enough. But not tonight.

Tonight, there was no amount of love that could help her feel better.

* * *

He didn't sleep.

It was one of those things that he could get away with just because it was so common. After all, over ten million Americans didn't get adequate sleep (or something like that, but he was too fucking tired to remember the exact number). Anyone called themselves clever staying up until three in the morning doing a big succession of nothings and labeling it "insomnia".

If insomnia was put in contest form, he'd win. Hands down.

Huey stared at the ceiling, the same thing he'd been doing for the past few hours. His body was so used to not sleeping that even if he were tired enough to give in, his eyes refused to shut. He sighed, resting his hands behind his head.

It hadn't always been this way. In fact, he was often laughed at by anyone who knew him for his habit of going to bed early and waking up early. Most people were just getting started when he went to sleep. He was called old man, a geek, "Baby Huey P" (Maya thought she was so damn funny).

But then…well, he and Riley and Grandad had flown back to Chicago for his aunt's funeral. He'd already known the details of her stroke, of the fact that there'd been too much irreversible brain damage. He understood the mechanisms of the human body well enough to know that, in no way meant to be cruel, she was better off dead than she would have been alive.

Then they'd gone to her wake. He'd always hated wakes. If there was a funeral then what was the point of gathering to talk around a dead person who could no longer hear, see, or speak to you? Nonetheless Grandad had told him his black ass was going, so he'd ended up in front of her dark casket, staring down at her.

And for some reason, from then on, whenever he'd closed his eyes he thought of that moment. It was engrained in his memory to the point where if he wanted to, he could see it in such vivid detail it would be as if he were really there.

The funeral itself had just been…odd. Everyone around him had their own ways of handling it. A good chunk of people cried, including Grandad. Some people were on edge, ready to yell at the first wrong thing someone said, such as Riley. Some were the quiet ones who went around trying to be a comfort to others, only to be found having breakdowns in the bathroom during the repast. And he…he just sat there. He didn't know _what _he was supposed to do. He knew funerals were a sad time, but he didn't know how to be sad. He hadn't even shed a tear at his own _parents' _funeral, and he was nine. So, on the outside he was seen as stoic. Brave. All pulled together.

And on the inside, he was just as lost and broken as Cookie's cousin who had fallen into the hole the coffin was in and had to be pulled out by three people from the funeral home.

Well, lost. Not broken. Never broken.

His eyes flickered towards his open window, where he could spot a dark shadow crawling into the next room over, the familiar timberlands smacking against the window pane. His eyes darted to the clock on his nightstand, the red digital numbers standing out like beacons.

_1:04 am_.

Huh. Riley was back earlier than usual. Not only that, but _really_? It was _only _one? It felt like it should have been one three hours ago!

That was the thing about not sleeping; it made one's sense of time fall to the wayside. The nights were too long. The days were too short. Sometimes they seemed to blur into each other. Other times there were distinct time frames.

Daytime. Nighttime.

Daytime Huey. Nighttime Huey.

What did a nigga have to do to get some _sleep _around there?

_'Sleep is the cousin of death. Did you know that?' _his mind decided to remind him.

Huh. Maybe it _was _a good thing he _couldn't _get there then.

He rolled his eyes, sitting up and glancing outside before rising to his feet. He went over to his closet, got a pair of shoes, and threw on a jacket. It was a good thing he didn't bother putting on pajamas since his REM cycle never bothered to show up.

He crept down the stairs, even though he knew Riley was too indifferent and Grandad too heavy of a sleeper to notice noises in the house, opening the front door and gently shutting it behind himself. He jammed his hands in his pockets, starting down the driveway and hitting the sidewalk. He glanced left, then right.

Decisions, decisions.

He headed to the left, shrugging. Whatever.

In the daytime Timid Deer Lane was already quiet, but at night it was as if everyone were dead. Nothing moved. Even the wind had its moments of ceasing so that the silence was overwhelming. Anytime _he _of all people got sick of silence, there was a problem.

He stared up at the sky, the twinkling stars barely evident from the interference of the streetlights around him. He sighed, shaking his head.

The mini mart was brightly lit as usual, a streak of light against the darkness. He pushed the door open, nodding towards Bruce, the cashier who was in his mid forties and always worked the graveyard shift. Bruce, who was reading a magazine, nodded back and went back to reading. This was simply another routine to them.

"Slow night?"

Bruce glanced up, a slow smile spreading along his features. Huey had to admit, the guy was a pretty cool white man.

"Busier than usual." He put down the magazine. "Two people came asking for directions. Someone came to use the bathroom. And I sold two whole packs of Orbit."

Huey shook his head, heading over to the coffee station. It was one of his few vices that few (and by few he meant no one) knew about. Oh, well. "A whole three dollar profit. Someone's going places."

"Yup." Bruce whistled, picking up his paper again. "Goodtimes."

Huey nodded, taking a long sip of his coffee. The old radio behind the register was playing some jazz station. He picked up a magazine of his own, flipping through it and mentally face palming himself for not at least bringing something constructive along, like homework or a book.

He glanced down to the magazine.

Rephrase. He wish he had a _real _book.

"So, what day is this?" Bruce yawned, turning a page. "Forty one?"

"Forty two," Huey corrected, not even looking up. The cashier frowned.

"Don't they _make _something for insomniacs?"

"Yup." He shrugged. "Doesn't mean I'm gonna take it."

"Don't tell me you're one of those." Bruce shook his head at him. Huey lifted his eyebrows.

"And don't tell _me _you're one of _those_."

Bruce smirked, turning around to straighten the rows of cigarettes behind him. Huey drank some more of his coffee. The older man sighed.

"I remember my days as an insomniac." He leaned against the counter, nodding as he reminisced.  
"Yup. It seemed like time just started melting together."

"So…what happened?"

Bruce shrugged. "I started sleeping again."

"Well, that was a useful story."

"Kind of was." Bruce gave him a look. "You see, I didn't sleep because I was afraid. I had too much that I didn't address. I had to face it."

Huey made a face. "Well, that's good for you and all but…I don't have anything like that."

Bruce shrugged again. "Ya sure?" When Huey nodded he went back to his magazine. "So you say now. But when the noise all fades, when it's just the night and yourself…you realize that something needs to change."

Huey started to reply, but before he could open his mouth a bell sounded, causing both their heads to whip towards the door. An Asian girl wearing a pair of baggy jeans, a black t shirt and some flip flops walked in, her dark hair in a bun. She stopped when she saw them both staring at her, her eyebrows lifting.

"Problem?"

Huey would have called her out on her attitude but for one he didn't know her and for another, he just really didn't feel like it. As she walked to the back of the store he blinked.

Wait…he _didn't _know her. That was weird. While he wasn't the most social person out there it was pretty easy to recognize people. It was even easier to recognize when you _didn't _recognize them. Even Bruce looked curious.

"Who's the girl?" he asked quietly. Huey shrugged. The door to the beverages flew shut and the girl's head whipped towards them.

"The girl can hear you both, you know."

"Then if "the girl" can hear, she can answer the question." Huey rolled his eyes. Bruce snorted. Her eyes narrowed.

"I could…but I won't." She grabbed a bag of chips and walked up to the counter, dumping them as well as a soda on the surface. "I don't respond to rudeness."

Bruce's eyebrows lifted. He scanned her items, the sounds of the cash register breaking the silence. "Three eighty one," he finally said. The girl fished around in her pocket for money, slapping a few bills into the man's palm. As she waited for her change she glanced back towards Huey.

"I just moved here."

He snorted. "Obviously." Her eyes narrowed. Instead of taking it personally he shrugged. "Did you _just _get here or something? Because not too many people are walking around out here at one thirty in the morning."

"Jet lag." She took the change Bruce offered her back, dropping it in her pocket. "What's your excuse?"

Huey shrugged again. Was he really gonna sit up here and tell some stranger something that no one other than a cashier at a mini mart knew? He glanced at the clock.

_1:36._

Well, he didn't have anything _better _to do.

"I don't sleep."

Her eyebrow lifted. She looked as if she were trying to decide whether he was being serious or not. He decided to help her out.

"I'm not joking."

"Didn't say you were. Something tells me you're not the ha-ha type anyway." She snorted. "Sucks for you. You should get that checked out." She turned back around, nodding to Bruce. "Thanks. Have a nice night."

"Bye." Bruce nodded back, watching her as she pushed the door open, the bell clanging loudly again, before walking out into the night. He glanced back to Huey, shaking his head before yawning.

"You meet the most _pleasant _people at night." His tone was filled with sarcasm. Huey took another sip of his coffee.

"Whatever."

"Maybe if you didn't drink so much coffee you'd sleep," the cashier suggested. Huey gave him a look.

"Or maybe I still wouldn't."

"Just sayin." Bruce gave him a look of his own. "But like I was saying before-"

"_Really_?"

"Yes. Really." Bruce gestured to him. "I'm giving you free coffee, man. It wouldn't kill you to listen to my excellent advice."

"Excellent to whose standards?"

"Hush. Anyway." Bruce smirked. "The _only _reason people can't get adequate amounts of sleep is if something's wrong. You have no physical problems, so it's gotta be mental. And if it's mental, it's only gonna go away if you acknowledge it." He held up a hand when Huey opened his mouth to protest. "All I'm saying is you'd better fix it on your own terms. Otherwise it's not just going to be your sleep that's messed up." He grabbed a newspaper, shaking it out and beginning to scan it. "That mental shit can destroy you, man."

Huey didn't say anything. Bruce started reading again, the entire place completely silent.

Fix it on your own terms. Right. He snorted, drinking more of his coffee. It was so much easier for others to say when they didn't know what it would mean to fix those terms. He leaned back, glancing out the store windows at the dark sky.

It was going to be another long night.

* * *

Eh.

Thanks for reading! Oh, and did ya'll know Gary Coleman died today? The HELL?  
So um, if I didn't ruin your day by telling you that, please review? :/

-Kelsey


	5. Just A Day

Okay, yeah this one hasn't been updated in awhile blah blah DON'T JUDGE ME! I doubt many of you care anyway. :P

Nah, on a serious note, thanks to missingthepoint (Who I actually DID update this for, so ya'll better thank her! haha), MizzC, MissG2020, and xXMissJanuary1996Xx for the reviews! With so much going on my writing game's been a bit off, so I hope this one's a good one. Oh, and thanks to "What I wouldn't Give" by Holly Brook, because that song helped _a lot. _Like, forreally real. Soooo _here's_ another chapter! If...anyone still reads this. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks

* * *

Just A Day

When people asked him where he wanted to be in ten years he didn't know how to answer. Shit, how could he? He didn't even know where he wanted to be _tomorrow_.

But sometimes he had a feeling that the place he wanted to be least was _here_.

"What the hell are you _doin_?"

He hadn't even known he was awake, yet somehow he'd had enough consciousness to register his older brother walking past his doorway. He sat up in his bed, dully noticing how the sun was already beginning its ascent into the sky. He saw the figure pause.

"None of your business." He kept walking and the younger sibling rolled his eyes, flopping back over and tugging his covers over his head.

This was just so _stupid. _How fucking early was it, anyway?

"I ain' goin' to no school," he mumbled to himself, as if someone had asked him to in the first place. "Shit. Don' nobody need no school no way."

His teacher was _crazy _to think he could talk to him any kind of way. And on top of being disrespectful he'd had the _nerve _to bring his brother into it! Like he cared that he won't as smart or nerdy as his punk ass. Like comparing them would really motivate him to do some shit.

The fuck outta there.

"Funny." He sat up to see his brother himself leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed. "Something tells me that you're probably the only person who sees education that way."

He felt his face fall into a scowl, one that was returned. He rolled his eyes, rolling over again.

"Nigga, get out mah face."

"Yeah, because standing twelve feet away from you is definitely in your personal space." When he didn't say anything in return he heard his brother sigh. "Riley, what am I going to do with you?"

He bolted up again, glaring.

"Nigga who said you had ta do anything _anyway_?"

"You _do _know that in high school they still call home, right?" He watched Huey straighten and shake his head. "Your teacher called, dummy. He said if your behavior doesn't get better he's having you shipped off to alternative school."

And _there _they went. "Okay, and?"

"_And_?" Sometimes he loved giving the wrong responses _just _to see the way his older brother would practically snarl at him in disgust, the way that he'd get visibly annoyed that they weren't seeing eye to eye on a situation. "Well, my bad. I wasn't aware that you _wanted _to amount to nothing."

Ooh. The traditional belittling sarcasm. Considering he was so hard to read, sometimes Huey Freeman was just too predictable. Riley snorted, sucking his teeth.

"Dat ain' wat you care about." When his eyebrow rose he went on. "Man, you just don' wanna be known as tha nigga wit tha messed up brother!"

"Yeah! Right!" Huey rolled his eyes. "Because that wasn't already proven _last _year, right?" When Riley said nothing in response he snorted himself, pushing off the doorframe. "You're going to find out that if you stay on the path you're on now, you're only going to land yourself in more trouble than you can get out of. You need to change directions."

"Wat is you _talkin _about?" Riley snapped, his eyes narrowing. "You ain' my damn daddy! Shit, I ain't got to listen to wat yo ass say!"

"Since when do you listen anyway?"

"Then why is you botherin' talkin'?"

"_Because_, Riley." He shook his head. "I keep thinking that one day you'll have nothing better to do then listen, and maybe I'll get through to you."

"Whateva." Riley stared at the ceiling. "I don' care wat yo ass say. I don' need yo geeky, lame ass self tryna tell me how ta live mah life-"

"Whatever, then." Huey closed the door. "Do what you want."

"I will!" he yelled back, crossing his arms over his chest and continuing to stare at the ceiling angrily. Stupid Huey. He thought he was _so _smart. He thought he was so much better than him.

He didn't need him. He didn't need _anybody_.

"I don't even _need _you!" he heard himself yell before he could stop himself. The words hadn't even registered in his mind yet there they were, fading into nothing just as his door flew open again and Huey stuck his head in, glaring.

"You need me more than you know," he snapped, his tone daring for his words to be challenged. "I'm all you've got."

Riley laughed at that one. "Nigga, please." He waved his hand, shaking his head. "I got grandad! Even when he bein mad an shit he still betta ta be around then yo busted up ass."

He watched his brother's face darken, the way he shook his head in an almost sympathetic way.

"He won't always be around." He started shutting the door again, seeming as if it weren't Riley he was speaking to. "None of us will be."

Riley couldn't help but stare in confusion at the door for a few moments, at least until he remembered he was too good to care about his brother's words and he laid back down again, closing his eyes. He sighed.

When people asked him where he wanted to be in ten years, he didn't know how to answer.

And moments like these only made finding the answer that much harder.

* * *

_'Am I enough?'_

It was often the first question she woke up to and the one that put her to sleep at night. It was those three words that floated into her thoughts whenever she was drifting off in class or during those lapses of silence in conversation. It was what came to mind whenever she saw the looks people gave her, their expressions unreadable. For the life of her, she just wanted to be able to know what they thought.

_'Do I do enough?'_

She was a daughter, a comforter, a friend…to an extent. She held people away at arm's length, not wanting anyone to be close yet hating the isolation all the same. People knew her, but did they _know _her? Even worse, did she know them as well as she liked to assume she did? She was selfish, she could be vain, she could be mean. She didn't know about random acts of kindness. She knew about doing what was right. At the end of the day though, weren't they both just the same?

_'Is this enough?'_

She stared around her room, the first rays of the morning sun filtering in through her window. She pushed her bangs out of her eyes, shaking her head and sighing, although she quickly straightened as her door flew open. She let her face fall into its trademark expression of indifference. It came so naturally that she barely even had to think about it anymore.

"So are you actually gonna drive me today, or am I gonna have to ride the stupid bus?"

"You see I haven't left yet, right?" Maya shot her sister a dirty look before picking up her shoes, beginning to lace them. Her younger sibling rolled her eyes, folding her arms and leaning against the doorframe.

"With you I can't ever tell." When she didn't say anything in response she frowned. "You look tired."

"And you look ugly but you don't hear me whining about it."

It was a reflex. It was her default. It was so, so much easier to be mean than it ever was to be kind. She watched Kat's dark gray eyes narrow.

"Why are you such a-"

"You'd better watch what comes out that mouth of yours because I am _not _in the mood, little person." She rose to her feet, grabbing her backpack and popping a piece of gum into her mouth. She picked up her car keys and walked past the younger girl, who shot her a wary look.

"Aren't you gonna eat breakfast?"

""Aren't you gonna eat breakfast"?" she mocked, rolling her eyes. "If I was I would've done it by now."

"Ugh. What_ever_." Her sister shoved past her, stomping down the stairs. "You're so _stupid_."

"If I'm stupid then you're downright retarded," she tossed to her retreating back, watching as the girl turned around to give her a smug look.

"If I'm the twelve year old in _high school _then I doubt that's the case." She faced forward again, skipping down the stairs. "You're the one who failed Pre-Algebra three times!"

She could already feel her temper beginning to flare. Kat just thought she was so perfect. With her shoulder length, naturally stick straight hair, light gray eyes and friendly personality, she was always the one making friends. Everyone loved her. She was the certified genius. The violinist. The cute, funny, sweet one that wouldn't know an enemy if they smacked her in the forehead.

On the other hand there was her, and she was nothing like Kat. Her hair's brown was much darker, much wavier, and less tamed. She probably hadn't had a haircut since she was _ten, _the ends nearly reaching her elbows. Her eyes were a brown so dark that in the right lighting they could pass for black. She wasn't people oriented, she could barely handle simple arithmetic, and she hadn't been called sweet since she'd knocked out a guy in her kickboxing class who was delusional upon coming to. Her sister was sugar, spice and everything nice, and she was none of that. She was bitter, angry. Sometimes she didn't even know what she was so angry _for_. She was either too much, or she wasn't enough. Either way, she was never right.

Never.

"I have a learning disability you dumb hussy!" she shouted in response before noticing her mother starting for her from down the hallway, her eyebrow lifted. "Oh hey, Macy." She absentmindedly scratched the base of her neck, cringing from her mother's dirty look. "How's it going?"

Her mother rolled her eyes. "And may I ask why you, as usual, have an attitude at seven thirty in the morning?"

"You'd have one too if you had to drive a piece of crap car!" she said, throwing up her hands. "Ma, the thing's in the shop more than it's on the _road_. If I keep taking it there I'm going to deplete my entire college savings."

"At the rate you're going you'll never get into college!" she heard Kat yell up the stairs. She stuck her head over the landing.

"And if you keep trying to play me your little ass isn't gonna make it to see thirteen!"

"My, stop." Her mother gave her a dirty look. "You're arguing with a twelve year old."

"That _thing_-" Maya pointed down the stairs. "Is _not _a normal twelve year old. She's like, the spawn of Satan-"

"I hate you!" her sister shouted.

"The feeling's mutual!" she shot back before turning back around. "Ma, I'm serious. This car is _ridiculous_. Why can't I just drive Stan's old one? It's sitting there collecting rust-"

"Why don't you ask your friend Huey to fix it?" her mom suggested. "He seems like he would."

"Do it!" Kat's voice chimed in, echoing as it hit the ceiling. "He's cute!"

"If you think that then you _are _retarded!" she let out before shaking her head. "He's tried. It's unfixable." She watched her mother bite her lip. "Stan's car isn't even _doing _anything. What's the point of having it if no one's gonna drive it?"

Her mom nodded, as if thinking. She watched her expression, a hopeful look on her face. Then, she snapped her fingers.

"You're right."

She grinned. _Finally._

"We should sell it."

Her smile quickly fell off her face, being replaced by a scowl.

"_What_?" She gaped at her mother with an expression of disbelief. "Mom! Did you _not _just hear me say I wanted his car?"

"My, I'm sorry." She shook her head. "I just don't think you driving his car is a good idea."

She clenched her fist, swallowing the anger that had risen in her throat. "And may I ask _why_?"

Her mother bit her lip, sighing. She snorted, rolling her eyes.

"You can't just get rid of everything that reminds you of him just because it hurts too much to look at it," she said quietly, her tone knowing. She watched her mom frown.

"That's not what I'm-"

"Then let me have the car. Ma, come _on_." She was nearly begging now. "Mine is a piece of _shit_-"

"Language!"

"Shut up!" she shot down the stairs before spinning back around. "Ma, I'll sell parts off my old one and give you the money if you want. I'll _pay _you for it!" Her voice was filled with desperation. "Just let me get a car that properly _works_."

Her mom look conflicted. It had gotten completely quiet downstairs, her sister obviously listening to see what their mother's final verdict would be. After a few moments she shook her head, giving her eldest daughter an apologetic look.

"I can't. I'm sorry, honey."

Her shoulders slumped. She shot her mom a dark look, spinning on her heel.

"Thanks, Macy." Her tone was filled with sarcasm. "You're the best." She stomped down the stairs, shaking her bangs out her eyes. "Come on here, troll! We gotta go get Hiro!"

"Hun, wait." She glanced up to her mother, whose face was filled with poorly concealed guilt. Just like her youngest daughter it was nearly impossible for her to hide her emotions. "I tell you what. I sell the car, but I give you the money." Her eyes widened. "That way you can sell yours for parts and that'll give you enough to get a decent one."

She grinned. Her sister suddenly popped up beside her, staring up at their mom as well.

"But mommy!" she asked, frowning. "What happens when I want a car?"

"Get _out _of here, ass-clown!" She shoved her aside, grinning up at her mom. "Thanks, Macy!"

"You're welcome." The woman shook her head. "So, for god's sake, can you _try _to smile today?"

She shrugged. "Maybe." She then grabbed her sister by her hair, pulling her after her towards the front door. "Bye, ma!"

"Ow!" the girl yelped, swatting at her arm. "Get _off _me, you big jerk!"

"Shud_up_."

"Under _one _condition!" She suddenly heard her mother shout, causing both girls to whip around. She was shooting them a severe look. "You have to be nice to your sister."

"HA!" Her sister pointed a finger in her face. She grabbed it, making her wince.

"And what if this little minion's mean to me first?" she asked, still holding the younger one's index finger. Their mom rolled her eyes.

"She's _twelve_."

Yeah. That _really _answered her question.

"_Fine_." Maya hurled Kat's hand aside, opening the front door. "Good_bye_."

"Bye!" Her sister waved cheerfully as she shut the front door behind them. Once the door was closed she shot her a smirk. "You'd better be _real _nice, too." She nodded towards the eldest's car, which looked like it had seen better days. "Because your car's a piece of _shit_."

"Then if it's so shitty, _walk _to school."

"That was mean."

"No. That was _honest_." She unlocked her door, pulling it open and reaching over to unlock the passenger door. "Just get in. Or I might run you over."

The girl slid in, balancing her backpack on her lap and glancing around. She closed her door, pounding the top of it twice so that the lock fell back down. Her sister's eyebrows lifted.

"That's cool." Her tone of voice said otherwise. She shot her a dark look.

"I will cut you and make it look like an accident."

Her only passenger gulped. "I mean…man! It sure is _sunny_."

She shot her a look before rolling her eyes, starting the car.

"Yeah." Her tone was dry. "It sure is."

_'Is this enough?'_

The morning sun was so bright she had to dig into her glove compartment for her sunglasses, placing them over her eyes. She glanced over her shoulder to the other car that sat immobile in the driveway, as if it were waiting for its owner to one day return. It seemed like all anyone ever did in this damn house was wait. It felt like everyone was just running around the three of them in circles and they were going nowhere. She felt, despite being surrounded, that she was completely alone.

"Sometime _today_, jerko?" she heard her sister chortle jokingly from her seat. As if she were funny. She sighed, shaking her head.

_'Is this enough?'_

It didn't take much thought to know the answer to that one.

* * *

"Get that one! _Get that one_!"

Huey and Caesar literally leaped for the empty round table, both of them sighing in relief as they beat out a good ten others bum rushing for the spot. A few seconds later Cindy breezed up, dropping her tray opposite of them and sitting down, fanning herself.

"This school," she said, shaking her head and uncapping her water. "Is _too _damn crowded."

"True." Caesar moved his stuff as Hiro flopped down beside him, Maya plopping onto the seat between Hiro and Huey. The dreadhead took one look at Maya's face and winced. "Ooh. _Somebody's _got her panties in a bunch-"

"And if you don't shut up I'll strangle you with them." Maya glanced down at her tray, blowing a strand of dark hair out her eyes. "Today _sucks_."

"You know," Caesar pointed out, pointing a French fry at her. "You say that every day."

"Because _every _day sucks!" The grumpy girl glared at him. "Your days would suck too if you weren't an only child."

"She _does _have a point," Huey agreed as Riley and Jazmine came up, both of them nearly slamming their trays down on the table. Everyone started, their heads whipping towards the two as they pulled out their chairs and flopped in them. Huey shook his head. "Take the observable Riley Freeman, for one." He gestured towards the glaring boy. "It is a wonder he hasn't driven me to homicide." Riley sat back in his seat and sucked his teeth while Jazmine put her head in her arms. "What the hell's wrong with you two?"

"Today _sucks_," Riley and Jazmine mumbled in unison. Huey glanced towards Caesar. He shrugged, popping a fry in his mouth.

"I'm sensing a reoccurring theme today…" Hiro muttered sarcastically. Maya rolled her eyes before gesturing to him.

"And once _again _you wear a _sweatshirt_!" She groaned, shaking her head and turning away. "You make _me _hot looking at that thing."

"Hot _how_?" Caesar joked. Maya gave him a blank stare, pointing to her serious expression.

"Don't even."

"Okayyy…" He turned towards the mulatto, who still had her head in her arms. "And how is the fun world of SAT prep, Dubois?" he asked. Jazmine shrugged, not looking up.

"I wouldn't know." Her voice was soft. "I went back to guidance this morning and switched back to Jazz Band."

Hiro choked on his drink. Caesar's eyes widened. Even Maya let out a low whistle.

"What made you do that?" she asked. "I thought your people were so hell bent on you taking that prep class?"

"They were." Her tone was flat. Huey sat up, his eyes narrowing. Cindy gestured towards the younger Freeman.

"And what's eating you?"

"Man, school _sucks_." Riley rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. "And mah teacher bein' a bitch nigga. I can't _stand _his stupid ass."

"And why can you not "stand his stupid ass"?" Cindy asked, smirking.

"Dis nigga crazy as hell!" Riley shook his head. "He talkin bout sendin' me ta some damn _alternative school._ Whateva. I'd drop out before goin' to dat shit."

"Ooh. Isn't your future bright." Huey's tone was filled with sarcasm as he looked down at his salad. "Well if you don't want to go stop acting like you've lost your mind."

"Easy for yo bitch ass to say…"

"What?"

"Nothin."

"You gonna eat your burger?" Cindy asked, poking her best friend. Jazmine shook her head and sat up, grabbing her backpack and rising to her feet.

"I'm not hungry." She jabbed her thumb behind her. "I'm gonna go…" She stopped, letting her words trail off and settling on shrugging, turning on her heel. "Whatever." She walked away, quickly being swallowed up by the crowded courtyard. Caesar blinked.

"Now there's _definitely _something wrong with her." He shook his head, concern in his eyes. "Maybe someone should go check on her."

Huey shrugged. "I could."

Everyone turned to him, giving him looks of disbelief. Cindy's eyes narrowed.

"Why the hell would you do that?" Her ocean blue eyes were giving him a challenging look. "After all, you can't _stand _her. Remember?"

Huey's own eyes hardened. "Whatever, Cindy." He shook his head, shrugging. "I was trying to be _nice_."

"Well, don't "try to be nice" again." Maya shook her head. "It's weird. Don't go changing on us _now_."

"Uh huh, whatever, _anyway_." Hiro shook his head, glancing around the table. "Did ya'll hear bout Old Man Turner's house burning down last night?"

Riley lifted his head. Maya's eyes narrowed. Caesar snorted and Huey rolled his eyes.

"It was an old, termite infested crap hole full of dry rot. It was only a matter of time." He waved his hand. "Next."

"Well…" Hiro snapped his fingers. "Ooh! Ceez and I are holding tryouts for our band we're getting together-"

"Yeah!" Caesar cut in, thumping his best friend in the back. "And you, my friend, get to be our third judge."

"_Me_?" Huey gave them both looks. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because you're our best friend and you always help a friend in need?" Hiro tried. Huey snorted.

"Try again."

"Because you strongly believe in the power of individual creativity and artistic expression, therefore for you _not _to help us enhance our abilities would be contributing to the regression of human individuality?"

"Good point…but try again."

Hiro opened his mouth to reply but a sudden shadow fell over him, causing him to look up. He blinked, holding his hand over his eyes to shield his face from the sun as he examined the newcomer.

She had on olive green cargos, some beat up flip flops, a brown shirt, and a brown hat that sat on her head. Her long, black hair was in a single braid that fell to her waist. When everyone began to stare at her, her almond brown eyes narrowed.

"Everywhere else is full." She didn't sound too happy about having to talk to them. "Any room for one more?"

Hiro blinked, nodding dumbly before moving his books. She slid down beside him, flopping her tray down and picking up her fork.

"Thanks."

And that was that. She began eating. The other six exchanged looks before glancing back to the newcomer.

"Um…sup?" Cindy sat up, offering her a smile. "We met before?"

The girl lifted her head, swallowing. She started to shake her head, but then her eyes fell on Huey. She smirked.

"You're the guy from last night."

Everyone's heads swiveled around to stare at Huey, who was giving a knowing glare to Caesar, who grinned.

"That's what she said?"

"No." He rolled his eyes. "You're the girl from the gas station. You flew in from…" When he let his words trail off she shrugged.

"Hawaii." She lowered her head again.

"Aw, shit!" Riley snapped his fingers. "Yo, you from Hawaii?" When she nodded he grinned. "So ya'll doin it big down there forreal, word?"

She blinked at him. "Excuse me, but do you speak proper English?"

Huey snorted. Maya elbowed him. Caesar shook his head.

"Well, what's your name, Hawaii?"

She rolled her eyes. "Hayley." She picked up her fork again.

"Oh, so you one of dem Asian broads."

Her eyebrow rose. "You couldn't tell." Her tone was dry. Hiro snorted.

"Ignore him." He held out his hand. "Hiro Otomo."

She glanced at it before shaking her head.

"I don't do handshakes. Sorry. Germaphobe thing."

He lowered his hand, looking put out.

"So what part of Hawaii are you from?" Maya asked, not sounding as if she cared either way. Hayley shrugged.

"Honolulu."

"Nice." She shrugged. "So…what made you move?"

She shrugged as well. "Time for a change."

"Why the hell would anyone move from Hawaii to _here _voluntarily?" Huey asked, shaking his head. "That's insane."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be." She snorted, as if trying not to laugh at some private joke. "Not even close."

"Well, how old are you?"

"Sixteen. What is this, twenty one questions?" She rolled her eyes at their stunned faces. "I mean, for real?"

"_Excuse _us for pretending to give a shit about you," Maya snapped, rolling her eyes. Cindy cut her eyes towards the girl.

"Maya! Really?"

"Okay, I'm not the one copping an attitude because people are actually trying to talk to me! Damn." She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "We doin' _her _a favor."

"And how do you figure _that_?" Everyone glanced towards Hayley, who was snarling as well. "I don't need anything from you. I don't even _know _you." Her nose wrinkled. "And if this is how you always act, I don't think I want to."

Maya's eyebrows lifted. Caesar and Huey exchanged amused glances. Even Riley looked like he was trying not to laugh. Hayley rolled her eyes, rising to her feet.

"Whatever. This is stupid. I'm out." She left her tray, walking back towards the main building. They all stared at each other again.

"What a bitch."

"Maya, not everyone's a bitch just cuz yo ass don't understand them." Cindy rolled her eyes. "You're acting like you're much nicer than her."

"Whateva." Maya sucked her teeth. "I didn't ask you all that." She eyed Cindy's plate, shaking her head. "Slow down, Tiger. You plan on hibernating for winter or something?"

"I got a big appetite, alright?" Cindy rolled her own eyes, biting into her cheeseburger. "Dumbass."

"Well, isn't _this _nice." Huey's voice was filled with sarcasm. He reached into his bag, pulling out a book and beginning to read. Caesar suddenly snatched it away, causing his eyes to narrow. "_Really_?"

"We ain't forgot!" Caesar held the book out Huey's reach. "Be our third judge for our auditions?"

"Man, whatever. _Fine_." Huey snatched back his book when Caesar held it out for him to take, rolling his eyes and flipping it open to its right page. Caesar and Hiro exchanged grins.

"Word! So, Friday after school?"

"Yeah…wait, no." Huey shook his head. "I'm already doing something Friday. It's kind of an all day thing."

"Really?" Hiro sat up, interested. "What?"

"Well…" As if becoming aware of how the entire table was now focusing on him he shook his head, staring back down at his book. "Nothing."

"Ooh. That sounds _real _time consuming." Caesar rolled his eyes; Hiro and Maya laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure you can get away with not doing nothing for a few hours."

"Whatever." Cindy glared at the afro wearing teen, who ignored her. "I'll do it. But damn, don't have me in there all day long." When Hiro and Caesar both gave him looks of confusion he rolled his eyes. "When it comes to this sort of thing ya'll will have someone working on a project from the time the sun comes up to midnight."

"Don't worry." Maya's tone was filled with sarcasm. "I'm sure you'll be back to not doing a damn thing in no time."

"Man, shut up."

"But forreal though." Maya glanced over her shoulder. "I wonder who that girl was?"

"Just some otha broad."

"And there _you _go." Cindy swallowed heavily, letting out a large burp that caused Caesar to burst out laughing. "I'll be happy as a motha when you stop seeing every girl as a broad."

"That'll _really _happen."

"Ain' nobody ask you nothing!" Riley snapped towards his brother before snatching a handful of the blond's fries; she glared. "And don look at me like dat. Yo ass don' need em."

"Damn." Hiro's brow knotted together. "Why did I never notice before that I had mean ass friends?"

"Pssh. I don't know where yo ass been." Cindy pushed her tray away, her eyes narrowed towards Riley. "Fine. Finish it, since I obviously don't need it."

"Ooh!" Riley yanked the tray beside his own one, grinning. "Thanks, tubby…_ow_!" Cindy had shoved him so hard he fell out his chair. "Damn, son!"

"Well." Huey's tone was flat and he didn't even bother looking up from his text. "Just another day."

"Yup." Caesar took a swig of his soda as Cindy and Riley began bickering, Hiro and Maya's heads together as they whispered about something that made them both laugh. "Just another day."

* * *

Jazmine walked into the bathroom to see two girls smoking.

No joke.

She stopped, making a face and shifting the weight of the bookbag that was hanging off her shoulder. The door slammed shut behind her and both girls whirled around, one of them Jazmine quickly recognizing as the girl from the guidance office. What had her name been? Donna? Darlene? Daria?

"Dory." The other chick, a girl with stick straight red hair, blew a stream of smoke from between parted lips and rolled her eyes. "Why's the geek staring at you like she wants to tap that?"

Well. _That _helped. Jazmine shook her head, her eyes narrowing.

"I wasn't staring." She walked towards one of the sinks and turned the taps on full blast, vaguely aware of how both girls were quickly rushing for one of the stalls. She heard a flushing sound go off before the bathroom door was opening, rapid footsteps rounding the corner. She looked up while Dory and her friend, who had just managed to make it out the stall, glanced towards the entrance as well.

One of the eleventh grade Chemistry teachers, Ms. Flores, was standing there, her arms over her chest and her eyes narrowed towards Dory and the redhead. Jazmine glanced over, noticing that their cigarettes were now missing. That would explain the flushing.

That didn't mean anything, though; the air was smoggy and thick. For anyone to _not _suspect students to be smoking would make them idiots.

Oh, crap…was _she _going to get in trouble for smoking? Oh, god! She didn't smoke! She'd never taken a drag of anything in her _life_! She didn't want to get in trouble! Especially for something she didn't even do!

"And would you two," Ms. Flores said, directing her question towards the guilty appearing Dory and her friend. "Like to explain _why _it reeks of cigarette smoke in here?" Her eyes narrowed. "Were you two _smoking_?"

"Uh…" The redhead opened her mouth, letting it flap uselessly for a few moments before closing it again. Dory, however, shrugged calmly.

"It was like that when we got here a couple minutes ago," she said lightly. Ms. Flores, appearing doubtful, trained her brown eyes onto Jazmine, who felt herself freeze.

"I saw you walk in not too long before myself," she said, taking a step forward. Like drawn to a magnet both Dory and the redhead's heads swung around, both of them staring at her as well. "Was it already like this in here?"

Jazmine swallowed, aware of how three pairs of eyes seemed to burn into her flesh. Obviously, she didn't owe Dory and whoever her rule breaking friend was anything. Besides, she'd had Ms. Flores for Chemistry the year before and she'd _always _gotten along with her. Being the dorky girl she was, she always wound up close to her teachers. They'd let her grade papers. They'd curve her grade those few tenths of a point she needed to get to the next letter grade when they didn't even do it for students who begged them to. They'd write her recommendation letters for her that made her seem like one of their children they were discussing, their words about her being nothing below excellent. So why the hell would she lie to save two girl's asses when they didn't even _like _her?

She shrugged, nodding.

"Yeah." Behind the teacher she could see surprise flash across their features. "It was like that." She turned back to the taps. "They weren't smoking."

She didn't lie because she liked them. She lied because she was tired and lazy and didn't feel like putting forth the effort it would take to tell the truth. If lying was so much easier for her mother, for everyone else around her, then she might as well hop on the bandwagon. Ms. Flores slowly nodded, all reluctance fading from her face.

It was just _that _easy.

"Alright, then." She turned on her heel, heading out the restroom. The girls watched, waiting for the door to swing shut before turning towards Jazmine, who had turned off the water and was simply staring at the sink. She looked up when Dory let out an appreciative sigh.

"Thank you. Like, seriously."

Jazmine nodded, picking up her bookbag again. "Okay."

"No. Not just okay." The redhead looked impressed. "I mean, I thought we were _busted_. Ms. Flores looked ready to bust our asses. Instead she was-"

""Alright, then"," Dory finished softly, repeating the older woman's words. Jazmine blinked at them. The redhead nodded, grinning.

"Exactly." She put a hand on her hip. "I've never seen a teacher here so quick to believe someone in my three years here. I mean…_dude_."

'_Dude?' _Jazmine thought to herself. She shrugged again as Dory cleared her throat, causing the redhead to look her way. She withdrew a cigarette carton from her purse, flipping it open and holding it out towards the mulatto.

"You smoke?"

Jazmine couldn't help it; she quickly snatched the box from the surprised girl, striding over to the open window and tossing it outside. She saw the smiles vanish off their faces.

"Are you _kidding _me?" When neither one of them said anything she gestured to the window. "You _just _almost got caught! And you're gonna go do it _again_? _Right _after it just happened? And in the same _place_?" She shook her head. "That's just stupid."

The redhead blinked. She opened her mouth to reply but Dory held up a hand, silencing her. She gave Jazmine a quick glance over, her chin lifting.

"Do you party?"

Jazmine paused, clearly caught off guard. "…What?"

"Parties. Do you go to them?" When she still didn't say anything Dory shrugged. "Well, I'm having a party Friday night. My peoples are going out of town…Malibu or Rio or some shit. Anyways, they're gonna be gone a week and it's just gonna be my granny. And she's so boozed up by eight pm she's usually asleep on the couch." The redhead snorted, as if used to what the girl was saying. Then again, she probably was. "So? You wanna come?"

Jazmine shifted nervously; her parents weren't too crazy about house parties. They were even less crazy about _unsupervised _house parties. And she didn't want to lie to them…

An image of her mother's face flashed into her mind and she felt her face grow warm. Dory and the other girl were staring at her with expectant looks on their faces. Finally, she bit her lip.

"I don't know." She hated how nervous she sounded. "My birthday's Friday and I kind of already have plans, so-"

"That's cool." Dory waved her hand; she obviously wasn't the type to get worked up over too much. She glanced into the mirror, examining her makeup. "Well, if your plans change…just come." She looked away from the mirror, her gray eyes falling on Jazmine's green ones. "Just let me know."

"Okay." She nodded. Dory straightened, grabbing her Prada bag off the sink and snapping her fingers. The redhead straightened, quickly following after her. As they reached the door Dory turned around, giving Jazmine a nod.

"And thanks." She shrugged, smirking. "There's more to you than I thought, Dubois."

She blinked, surprised, but they were already walking out the door, rounding the corner before the door shut again. Jazmine shrugged, leaning against the wall and sighing.

She knew she wasn't going to go…but she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if she did.

* * *

"And this is Hayley…um…well…Hayley…god, this is hard…"

The girl sighed with exasperation as her music theory teacher, some old, balding white guy, attempted to read her last name off the roster. She tapped her foot, trying to ignore the good twenty five pairs of eyes that were focused on her. The silence was so deafening that she finally glared at the man, her patience diminished.

"It's Eokeum." She rolled her eyes. "Hayley Eokeum. I'd hate for you to hurt yourself over it."

A few people snickered. The man glanced from the chart, to her annoyed face, back to the chart. He took out his pen, making a mark, before gesturing to the classroom.

"Well then, Miss Okie-um," he said, completely mispronouncing it; she had to resist the urge to groan. "Just take a seat."

Easy for him to say. She sighed, glancing around at all the occupied desks, her eyes roaming over the sea of people who stared back. She slowly head for the back of the class, where luckily there was one last desk open…one last desk that happened to be beside a familiar Asian boy, one who had his earphones in as he drummed on his desk with a pair of drumsticks. His eyes were closed, his head bowed. He was obviously into the music and was probably the only person who hadn't stared at her like she was an alien the moment she'd stepped in the door. She dropped her backpack beside the desk, sliding in and slumping in her seat as the old man turned towards the board. She plopped her chin in her hand, stifling a yawn.

When she'd come to register for classes the day before with her aunt Kimmie, she hadn't been offered many options for electives. While there were many options for Juniors, especially compared to the other lowerclassmen, she'd come a day late. Just by that move alone she'd missed out on a lot of interesting classes and had been stuck with choosing Music Theory so she could fill her schedule.

Oh, well. She'd much rather deal with this crap than still be stuck in Hawaii.

She was surprised her father hadn't called yet. Surprised…yet worried. What if he called while she was in school? What if he called and demanded her aunt ship her back home? Would she do it? Hayley knew she'd said she wouldn't lie to her father…but just because she wouldn't lie didn't mean she wouldn't keep her, did it? She swallowed, staring down at her desk, no longer able to concentrate. How could she bother concentrating on school when she could possibly be getting kicked back on a flight to Honolulu the moment the final bell went off that afternoon?

"Now." The teacher glanced over his shoulder, tapping the board. He'd written a paragraph of something on the surface, his handwriting so severely scrawled that she couldn't even make it out. "If all of you would get into pairs and discuss what I just went over; what is your name? What drew you to this class? Do you have a musical background? And what do you hope to learn by the end of this year?"

She snorted, blowing a strand of jet black hair out her eyes. Was this man serious? She glanced over to her right to see the girl beside her already leaning towards the guy that was on her other side. She looked straight to see the boy sitting there rising to his feet, already heading towards some other person halfway across the room. She shrugged, sitting back.

Oh, well. She wasn't here to make friends anyway. Who wanted to do some stupid exercise?

"The germaphobic." She glanced up to see the boy with his earphones glancing her way, looking about as indifferent as she felt. She straightened.

"…Hiro." When he nodded she shrugged, facing forward again. "Great."

"Do you have a partner?"

Oh, god. "Yeah." When she didn't offer anything else to that she saw him smirk.

"And they would be _where_?"

"Aren't you the one playing your little drumsticks or something?" she shot at him, hating how whiny she sounded. She rolled her eyes. "I don't feel like doing this stupid exercise, _okay_?"

"Okay. Whatever." Hiro shrugged, facing forward as well. "I was just trying to be nice."

"Well feel free to _not _do that." Wow. Did she _have _to be mean to everyone who glanced her way? She noticed him glance towards the window. Feeling slightly guilty, she sighed. He looked towards her again.

"I'm Hayley." She took a deep breath. "I'm in this class because nothing else was open. I'm the only one in my family who gives a crap about anything musical. And the only thing I want to learn is how to graduate early, because I hate this place already."

She watched Hiro examine her, as if he were trying to figure her out. After a few seconds he shrugged.

"Well, I'm Hiro, and I'm in this class because I want to utilize my music composing skills." He put down his pencils. "My cousin was the only other one who cared about music. And…I already told you what I want to learn."

"Your cousin _was _the only one who cared about music?" She mentally facepalmed herself. Great. Now she was _inviting _him to converse with her! He nodded, shrugging.

"Yeah. He died some years back." He was so casual about it that she felt her eyebrows shoot up. He turned away and she slowly stared forward again, the loud chatter of the other students around her fusing together. After a few seconds she turned around again, hesitating.

"Hey."

Hiro looked up as well. She was horrible at this entire sociable thing but sat up nonetheless, holding out her hand towards him.

"Nice to meet you."

He stared at her hand, then back up at her face. She simply sat there, not bothering to apologize for being rude. If he couldn't take this for what it was, then it wasn't her problem. Finally, he sat up as well, clasping her hand with his own and giving it a firm shake.

"Nice to meet you, too."

He smiled, and for a second she considered smiling back before reminding herself that she wasn't there to make friends. She took her hand back, clasping it with her other one and setting them both in her lap as she faced forward again. She once again willed herself to shut out everyone around her, reminding herself that she was there merely to escape. Not to make connections, but to rest until it was time to move again. Unfortunately, it was going to happen sooner than she'd liked.

She couldn't stay. Not when her aunt was the first person her dad would call. She had to make another move, and quick.

That was why, for the rest of the period, she ignored the teacher, instead focusing on what she'd do next.

If only there was some kind of class on how to handle _this _sort of situation.

* * *

Figures I get the most writing done when I'm hungover. Worst. Writer. Ever.

I mean...uhh...*scratches head*

Thanks for reading! I hope ya'll are living it up this summer and whatnot. But not, you know, too much... ;)  
(And while you're taking a break from living it up, LEAVE A REVIEW!)

-Kelsey


	6. Running

Another one? Holy smokes! Yeah, you know when I mentioned that I already had clusterfucks of stuff done for this story? Well, this chapter was one of the ones that was close to being finished already. The one after it isn't though, so don't be expecting double updates or whatever...even though, surprisingly, I just had a huge burst of inspiration towards this story. I'm pretty sure if it hadnt been suggested I update this one it wouldn't have happened for a long time, so yay!

Er, thank you to BlueDolphin2011, MissG2020, missingthepoint, and Kirara2468 for the reviews! Yay! People still read this! HAHA.

_"And it said in the story that he was 89? That seems pretty old. If huey is 17 in this story grandad would have to be 82 when huey was 10."_

I'm probably wrong (LOL) but his age was never really clarified; in the comic Huey mentions Grandad being at least in his seventies while on the show it said no one knew his age, not even himself, and it was probably between 80 and 120. I'm pretty sure they should just have one of those guessing contests, like when you used to try and guess how many jellybeans were in a jar and whoever got the closest won? Yeah. They should do that. Lol

It's like, 4 am. I'm talking crazy. I'm going to stop now.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks

* * *

Running

If it weren't for the fact that she'd needed clean underwear she never would've went back home.

Nevertheless, when Cindy realized that she'd run out of clean undies and wasn't willing to do laundry, she ventured to the other side of Jazmine's neighborhood, where the houses got just a little larger and the neighbors a lot more snotty.

"Why don't you just go through the front door?" Jazmine asked softly as they made their way up the wide, circular driveway, where she stopped once she noticed her best friend rounding the side of the house to where a wide trellis was set up right outside her window. Being the type of person she was she'd flat out refused to let Cindy walk the relatively short distance back to her place alone, instead dropping her homework to venture into the darkness with her. Cindy shrugged, turning away to stare at the whitewashed manor.

Once upon a time the trellis had been situated underneath the guest wing on the opposite side of the house, but she'd decided that she needed it more than the people who never came to sleep over. The blond shook her head, holding up a hand when Jazmine began to follow her.

"Just wait there." And with a tiny grunt she pulled herself up on the slightly wobbly structure, beginning to climb.

Anytime someone couldn't use their own front door there was a problem and she knew it. But what was she supposed to do?

Her center bedroom window was unlocked, just the way she always left it. She lifted the sill with ease, sliding in and placing her feet as carefully on the hardwood floor as possible, trying to make as little sound as necessary. The sad part was that she probably hadn't seen her mother for more than five minutes at a time for the past few weeks, and the even sadder part was that she probably didn't even notice. Not when she was so hopelessly in love with someone who couldn't care less about her wellbeing.

A long time ago, Cindy had cared. She'd seen her mother's countless mistakes in choosing companions following her bitter divorce from her father, who'd moved away and hadn't been heard from since. She'd known the new suitors and what they were about before they even opened their mouths. They always acted so sweet and kind in the beginning, but it never lasted. She'd tried to warn her mom on too many occasions. She'd tried to save her all the heartache she always ended up enduring. In the end, it never mattered. It just never did.

She crept over to her dresser, taking off her empty book bag and unzipping it. She quickly shoved in an assortment of underwear, tossing a few bras into the mix. She didn't worry too much about clothes; Jazmine kept a closetful of trendy items that she didn't even _wear_, choosing to go for comfort instead of fashionista, and she was never above sharing. She may have been able to get whatever she wanted at the snap of her fingers, but she'd never been anywhere close to selfish. Maybe that was their common ground, something that kept them as close as they were. Cindy was zipping up her backpack as she heard a sudden crashing downstairs. She froze, her spine stiffening.

There was yelling, the sound of it starting low, until it was rising loud enough for every word to be made out clearly. Outside, she could hear Jazmine calling her.

_Shit_.

"Cindy?" Her quiet whisper floated through her window, making her wince. "Where are you?"

She quickly poked her head out, her blond hair falling over her shoulders. "Didn't I tell you to stay on the driveway?"

"But-"

"_Go_!"

Jazmine bit her lip, hesitating, but finally she was backing away from the window, jogging around the side of the house. Cindy shook her head, tossing her backpack out the window and sticking her left leg out, sliding underneath the sill.

_Crash._

She froze, her head spinning towards her closed door. The yelling was even worse now, and she was beginning to make out the sounds of a female crying. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

She was a lost cause. Her mother was a lost cause…

_Slam_.

A particularly sharp wail had her climbing back into the house, running across her bedroom and flinging the door open.

She couldn't just _leave _her like this.

"Mom!" Cindy yelled, tearing down the circular staircase, her sneakers pounding heavily on the carpet. She hit the first floor, making a sharp turn and running down the long hallway towards the living room. She stopped, ducking quick enough to miss being hit by a porcelain vase, which crashed against the wall and shattered. She straightened, her blue eyes widening.

"Stop!" she screamed towards her mom's boyfriend, who was currently stalking around the couch towards the sobbing woman, who kept running to the opposite end to get away from him. Her shout fell on deaf ears, for all he did was pick up a lamp off an end table, shaking it. Her eyes narrowed and she pushed off the wall, running towards him. She jumped, leaping on his back and elbowing him in the head.

"Leave her _alone_!" she yelled, tugging his hair. He dropped the lamp, letting out a groan while her mother uncovered her face, her own brown eyes growing large.

"Cindy!" she choked, wiping her eyes as the man managed to shake her off. She fell to the floor, quickly scooting away as he advanced on her.

"You stupid bitch-"

"Leave her alone, John!" A high heel suddenly flew past them both, smacking the wall not too far from where the vase had hit it. Either he didn't hear her mother or her ignored her, rushing towards her as she pushed off the floor and raced back for the staircase.

"You want to include yourself in matters that aren't your concern, little girl?" he yelled, stomping up the steps after her. She reached the top, stopping to stare down at him as he glared at her mother, who had come behind him to grab his arm in an attempt to drag him back.

"Just leave her alone!" She was practically sobbing all over again, pulling on his sleeve. "_Please_ just leave her _alone_-"

"Move!" he snapped, flinging her off with relative ease. She fell onto the floor, letting out a cry. Cindy's eyes narrowed and she glanced behind her, spotting a potted plant. She heard his footsteps quickly making their way towards her and she bent over, picking up the heavy thing with a grunt…

And then she was hurling it with all the strength she could muster towards the man, who had no time to react before it was smacking him square in the shoulder, knocking him off balance. He stumbled back, slipping and falling down the stairs. She leaned over the banister to watch him roll down the stairs, finally hitting the ground floor again and coming to rest on his back. His eyes were shut, her body unmoving.

She'd managed to knock him out.

Letting out a sigh of relief she slowly made her way back down the steps to her mother, who was sitting up and running a hand through her frosted blond hair while staring at the man. She pressed her lips together, her eyes filling.

"Mom." She stopped beside her, crouching beside her and resting a hand on her shoulder. "Mom, are you okay?"

She didn't say anything; her eyes lowered to the tiled floor. Cindy frowned.

"Mom?"

Her mother shook her head, finally lifting her gaze to her only daughter. She shifted, opening her mouth…

_Smack._

Cindy blinked in shock, her eyes refusing to tear themselves away from her mother's own livid ones. She slowly lifted her hand to touch the spot on her cheek that her mom had just struck, her eyebrows lifting. Her mom's eyes narrowed.

"Look what you _did_!" she shrieked, pointing past her to the unconscious man's body. "What were you _thinking_?"

Cindy's jaw dropped. What the hell _had _she been thinking? "Mom!" She tried to wrap her brain around her mom's words, tried to find the logic in what she was saying. "Mom…he was _hurting _you-"

"No one told you to come down here!" she yelled, ignoring her. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Me? _Me_?" Cindy jumped to her feet, tears springing to her own eyes that had nothing to do with her stinging cheek. "I'm not the one letting some worthless man hit her like-"

"You don't know _anything_, Cynthia!" her mother shot back, shaking her head. "Don't you _dare _speak on things you don't understand!" Her face crumpled. "Cindy, I _love _him. And he loves me…"

"He's _never _going to change!" Her voice was desperate. "Mom, he's never going to _stop_!"

"He's _trying_, Cindy!" Her mother let out a sob. "He's _trying_!"

"You call _this_-" Cindy gestured around the ruined first floor. "-Trying?"

"You don't understand love, Cindy." Her mother's voice grew hard. "You just don't get it."

Cindy stared down at her, her own eyes narrowing. After a few seconds she shook her head.

"Neither do you, mom." She turned away, trying to keep her tears at bay as she started up the stairs. "Neither do you." She ignored her mother's soft crying, instead going into her bedroom and closing the door again.

Her mother wouldn't know love if it stamp itself on her forehead. She couldn't _possibly _hope to find it anytime soon if she couldn't even see what was wrong about choosing an abuser over her own daughter.

The world sure did work in fucked up ways.

She took a few minutes to compose herself before she crossed the room, climbing back out the window and descending the trellis. As she reached the ground she saw Jazmine walking towards her, her innocent green eyes filled with worry.

"You took so long!" she breathed as Cindy's sneakers made dull thumping sounds in the grass; she bent down to scoop up her book bag. "Did your mom say something about you staying over?"

Cindy straightened, slowly shaking her head.

"Nah." She took a deep breath, forcing a smile and elbowing her best friend. "You know she don't care. You know you like my real family."

Jazmine slowly smiled, extending her hand, pinky outstretched. Cindy smirked, doing the same so that they linked their fingers together, snapping their fingers before doing a fist pump and making sizzling sounds, pointing towards each other. Cindy couldn't help but laugh as they linked arms, starting for the driveway again. As Jazmine began to go into some story about something that happened on her way home from school she glanced over her shoulder back to the house. She saw the curtain move, her mother's face appearing in the window, pale as a ghost. She closed her eyes, wincing and turning away.

"Hey." Jazmine gently tugged Cindy's sleeve as they turned on the sidewalk, heading down the street. "You okay?"

Cindy paused, then nodded. She rested her forehead on Jazmine's shoulder, never missing a step.

"Yeah." She sighed. "I'm okay."

* * *

When Hiro was seven, his older cousin Yuuta introduced him to his turntable.

Yuuta Otomo had been a good thirteen years older than him, the eldest child of his father's brother. He hadn't lived too far from Hiro's school back in California, which meant that the younger cousin only had a short walk after school (and sometimes during) before he was at Yuuta's side, watching him and absorbing his techniques like a sponge. Yuuta wasn't like the others in his family; everyone else had been to law or med school. They'd gotten enough degrees and awards to line their walls. They'd gone to college as if they hadn't had any other path to take.

His cousin, however, had forged his own path. At the age of sixteen he'd gotten his GED so he could get out of school and focus more on his music. He rented a tiny flat near downtown that was filled to the brim with instruments, equipment, and other items that seemed like trash, when in reality they were as sacred as ancient gold. He worked two jobs; he was a cook by day and a DJ by night, sometimes even getting his little cousin in through the back as long as he promised to "Stay close, and stay the hell out the way".

Hiro had fallen in love with music, and he had his cousin to thank for that. He'd given him something worthwhile, something that made sense. Even when he was just a seven year old, perched on Yuuta's couch with eyes wide in awe at his big cousin, he'd known that it would be big enough to mean something. He'd known that music was his calling, even before Yuuta was killed just three days before his ninth birthday.

It was times like these that he had to remind himself what he was fighting for.

"How your classes going?" his father, Shouta Otomo, asked that night as he, his mother, and himself sat at the dinner table. Hiro shrugged, staring down at his pasta.

"Fine." At school he could carry on a conversation with someone for hours if he felt inclined, but at home he felt like an outsider, even with the people who had raised him from birth. His mother straightened, her stern face only making him feel even more as if he were in the wrong family.

"And do you feel that your classes will be manageable?" she asked, twisting her own pasta around her fork. As a college professor she spoke English more proficiently than his father, who was also staring expectantly towards his son. He shrugged again.

"It-"

"Don't slouch." His mother shook her head, disapproval written all over her features. "For goodness sakes you'll wind up like that hideous Quasimodo figure out of that movie your little friend Maya used to always watch when you were twelve-"

"Nako, let the boy look like hunchback if he want!" Shouta waved his hand, chewing on his pasta and swallowing before going on. "If he want to be ugly, he be ugly! Plenty ugly to go around in this country! It was _never _like this in Japan-"

Hiro couldn't help but sigh. All his mom ever did was find things to complain about and all his dad did was go on and on about life back in Japan.

"I don't care about Hiro being ugly." Nako shook her head, her almond brown eyes narrowed. "I want him to focus on his studies so he can get into a good university. Like Stanford." A rare smile graced her features. "You know Manami is graduating from Harvard this spring? A double major in Biochemistry and Mathematics." She nodded. "She will do great things."

Hiro had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

"What if…" When both his parents trained their sharp glanced on him he froze before finding his words again. "What if I don't want to go to Stanford?"

His dad froze. His mother's eyes narrowed so much that they were tiny slits. He sat up.

Well, damn. If they reacted this way to him not wanting to go to their school of choice, how would they act when they found out he had no desire to go to college at _all_?

"You find school better than Stanford University?" Shouta shook his head. "No, no. That not possible-"

"And what is wrong with Stanford?" Nako shook her head. "Stanford is a perfectly wonderful institution of higher learning-"

"I know," he agreed quickly. "But what if I'm not happy there?"

_Wrong answer_. Both his parents blinked.

And then…they were laughing?

"You funny!" His dad was actually laughing so hard that he was holding his _sides_. Tears were streaming from the corners of his eyes. "You think we care about your happiness?" When Hiro blinked he shook his head. "We care about you _succeed_! Your happy don't matter!"

"You _will _be happy." Nako's tone was serious. "When you have your degree and you can choose a successful career path that will take you far in your life, when you look back and see what years of perseverance and hard work can get you…_then _you will realize what true happiness is."

Yeah, right. Hiro shook his head. His parents wouldn't recognize true happiness if it bit them. He _knew _what happiness was; he felt it whenever he was doing a set, the cheering of listeners sending electricity through his veins. He knew happiness when he was composing music, building and creating his own melodies that seemed to tell a story, _his _story. He knew happiness…and school wasn't what made him happy.

"Your cousin doctor and she happy." His father clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "_You _be doctor. _You _be happy." He shook his head. "We did not come to this country for you to be failure. To be some actor or musician or artist-"

"He's right." Nako nodded, affirming his words. "You do not need to go down the wrong path. God, we don't want you ending up like your foolish cousin Yuuta-"

"Yuuta _wasn't _foolish." He was speaking before he could stop himself, the rare anger coming out of nowhere. Both his parents stopped. "Yuuta did what made him feel good about himself. Yuuta was proud of _himself_. And in the end that's what matters the most."

Both sets of his parents' eyes blinked, surprised. And then, his mother's nose was wrinkling, her expression falling into a familiar one which meant, basically, that he was about to get an earful. Sure enough…

"Of _course _you believe that." Her voice was filled with discontentment. "You let him feed you that garbage about that horrible _hobby _of yours and-"

"It ain't my hobby-"

"_"Ain't"_?"

"It _isn't_." Hiro rolled his eyes. "It _isn't _my hobby." He paused. "It's my _passion_."

"It's one that I don't support, and neither does your father." Shouta nodded in agreement. "I will be glad when you finally get out this phase-"

"It's _not _a phase-"

"-And realize that you can't get anywhere in life pursuing such a hobby!" his mom went on, speaking over him. "You will end up like your idiot cousin, Hiro. And I refuse to let that happen-"

"What does making music have to do with being _shot _in front of a Jason's Deli?" Hiro snapped. His father slammed his fist on the table.

"You don't talk to your mother that way!" He abruptly shut his mouth. "Now, you listen. Your focus is get education." He shook his finger towards his son. "You are not a dummy. Your time is here to put away childish things and start thinking about your future!"

"He's right." Nako's autumn brown eyes bore into his own. "This is your final year of high school. Your focus should be on your schoolwork, not on your tableturns, or-"

"Turntables."

"What_ever _they are called." She shook her head at her son. "You _will _be attending Stanford University come next fall, at least if you want your father and me to help finance your education."

Hiro's jaw dropped. Shouta nodded in agreement.

"I want to hear nothing of your _music_-" He said the word as if it left a bad taste on his tongue. "-until after your graduation!" He pointed his fork towards him. "I better not _see _instrument leave basement!"

"You _can't _be serious!"

"We _are _serious." His mother frowned. "And it's time you got serious as well."

Funny how his parents couldn't ever sit in the same room without getting into a screaming match, yet they could band together to ruin his life. He felt his fist clench in his lap as his mother turned back towards her plate, both of his parents going back to their dinner. He tossed his napkin beside his untouched food, pushing his chair back.

"I'm going to my room."

"Hitting those books?" his father asked with a smirk. Hiro rose to his feet, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, dad. Sure." He stomped out the kitchen, heading for the stairs. "Whatever."

"I don't want to hear no stereo playing, either!" his dad called after him. "Noise give me headache! Do work!"

Hiro's eyes narrowed. He took the stairs two at a time, making sure that when he got to his bedroom door he slammed it as hard as possible, the noise practically causing the window panes to shake.

If his parents didn't want him involved with any sort of music, he'd find _some _kind of way to still make noise.

* * *

Caesar tried to sleep, but it just wasn't coming to him tonight.

He stared up at the dark ceiling, his head swimming with too many thoughts to let him fall into the tranquil silence of unconsciousness. He couldn't find a job to save his _life_. Damn, he knew times were hard and all, but what did a brotha have to do to get some employment? It wasn't like he had much time. Not if he wanted to keep them from getting their house repossessed.

He sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and putting his feet on the floor. He stretched as he rose to his feet, yawning and heading down the stairs for the kitchen. He cut on the light, sleepily wandering over to the refrigerator for something to drink. He opened the refrigerator door, frowning.

Funny…but there seemed to be less food than usual in there. And he wasn't exaggerating. His eyebrows rose and he frowned, reaching in and picking up a lone ketchup bottle, which was nearly empty. He crouched down so he could get a better look.

A head of lettuce. A jar of mayonnaise. A few cans of soda here and there, a bottle of Arbor Mist on the back of the top shelf, some Kraft cheese singles and a pack of ham…oh, well there was a bowl of leftover spaghetti…how had he not _noticed _this before? He slowly let the refrigerator door shut, shaking his head. He slowly walked over to the table, pulling out a chair and sinking into it, staring numbly at the tabletop.

They were broke. They were flat out, can't-afford-a-packet-of-Kool-aid-mix, welfare's-never-looked-this-good broke. As those words flashed through his mind his eyes happened to fall on a stack of opened envelopes in the fruit basket on the center of the table. It was where his mother kept the bills.

It was also where he reached to snatch all the envelopes out, dropping them in front of him on the table and digging into one of the envelopes, withdrawing a folded sheet of paper and letting his eyes roam over it, quickly scanning the page. He shook his head, tossing it aside and doing the same with the next. And the next.

Ten thousand dollars. _Fifteen _thousand dollars. Two thousand, eight thousand, _twenty four thousand dollars_. And he wasn't even halfway through the pile. He threw all the envelopes aside with a frustrated groan, burying his face in his hands.

His mom hadn't been lying when she said she was out of options.

She was…but he wasn't.

_No. _Caesar shook his head, his eyes narrowing. It was such a crazy idea. It was so stupid, so irrational, so damn irresponsible…

…But it was all they had. He couldn't just let the government come and seize everything they had and throw them on the street! Not when his mother had always struggled to keep a roof over their heads and had never put anything before him. He couldn't let that happen to them. He couldn't let it happen to _her_.

He stood up, not even bothering to clean up the mess and ran back up the stairs, bursting into his room and cutting on the light. He grabbed his cell phone (it was a wonder it hadn't been cut off) and dialed a number he'd kept for so long but had never used. He'd never had a need. He'd always had the resources, the connections, but they'd never meant anything to him. Not until now.

The phone rang three times. On the fourth rang it picked up, a few seconds passing by before a sleepy voice spoke up.

"_…Do you know what _time _it is, nigga?"_

"I know, my b." Caesar flopped back on his bed, glancing towards his door. If he strained his ears enough he could hear his mom's muffled sobs making their way through the wall, which only served to make him more determined. He felt his grip tighten on the phone.

He wasn't going to let her cry anymore.

"I need a favor."

* * *

She was the ninth of thirteen children.

…Seriously.

There was Ashya, her oldest half sister who had moved from Hawaii the first chance she'd gotten, straight out of high school. There were her twin half sisters, Melody and Kayla, who were each married with families of their own. There was her half brother Akio, her father's namesake and by far his favorite, even if he was only seen twice a year and was so far into the bottle it was impossible to pull him out.

Then, there was her half brother and sister, Kenji and Analee, from her father's second marriage. Kenji was attending college in Wisconsin, Analee going to the University of Hawaii and living not too far from her parents. Analee called, but she only came back home if someone were in the hospital, in the case of an emergency, or summers. Kenji, never known for kindness, did neither.

After them, there was her brother Taji, the self proclaimed comedian of the family. There was shy, quiet Mia, her confidant who attended the same university as Analee, commuting. Hayley herself came next, with her twin brothers Rai and Kane following behind, Madison coming after them, and Kai bringing up the rear. Of the thirteen of them, seven of them were still living with her mother and father.

Well…now it was six.

Hayley glanced both ways before crossing the quiet street, her hands in the pockets of her jacket as she head towards the gas station. It was lit up like a beacon, calling her name. Her backpack was on her shoulders, her guitar strapped to her back as well. Her aunt was at work and she wouldn't be back until morning. By then, she'd be long gone.

It was wrong just pushing herself on someone like this. It was wrong dragging others down. She couldn't do it. Woodcrest wasn't the place for her. Hayley sighed, pulling the glass door open. She strode inside, ignoring the cashier and the afro wearing boy who was reading a book beside the coffee machine, making her way to the beverage section.

"So, I told her if she wasn't a paying customer she couldn't use the restroom, right?" the cashier was saying. She opened the refrigerator door, reaching for a Yahoo. "She tries to cop this attitude and makes a huge deal about it-"

"Bruce." The masculine voice that interrupted the other man sounded familiar, but she ignored it.

"-So then I'm just like "Look, I don't have to deal with this. If you don't like it you can leave", right?"

"_Bruce_."

"So then this woman, do you know what she does?"

"Bruce." The boy's tone was blunt. "I don't care."

"Oh, fine." Hayley shut the door, turning towards the counter. Her eyes fell on the boy, who was giving the cashier an exasperated look. The older man rolled his eyes, adjusting his radio.

"Such a hard child to please."

"I appreciate the silence more than anything." The boy held up his cup in response. "Oh. And the free coffee." His eyes fell on Hayley and he straightened, frowning a bit.

Or maybe he was frowning before. She really couldn't tell. He didn't seem like much of a smiling type anyway.

"What are you doing here?"

She rolled her eyes. "Is that a default question or something?"

He blinked and paused, as if he were considering the possible things he could say to her. He seemed to decide on not giving her the time of day since he merely shrugged in response, lifting his cup to his lips.

"Could be."

She shook her head, walking past him up to the counter, where she set down her drink. The cashier, Bruce, gave her a kind smile as he rang it up.

"You find everything alright?"

She nodded, hesitating.

"Actually…" she paused, waiting until Bruce gave her an expectant look to continue. "Do you know where the nearest bus station is around here?"

"Depends." He rested his elbows on the counter, shrugging. "Local buses stop running at eight pm. If you're trying to get on a greyhound, I think the last one left around midnight." She felt herself frown. "They usually start running again around five."

"Five _am_?" She shook her head. "But I have to leave _now_."

"Where are you going?" the boy at the coffee station asked. She turned towards him, glaring.

"Is that really any of your business?"

He looked to his right, then his left, before giving her a bored look.

"It's one in the morning." He turned the page of his book. "There's nothing to do _but _interfere in other people's affairs."

Hayley rolled her eyes, taking a step towards him. He wanted business? Oh, she'd give him business.

"I'm trying to head out west so my family can't find me." She lifted her chin. His brow lifted.

"And you don't want your family finding you because…?"

"I just _don't_," she snapped. He rolled his eyes.

"Ooh. What exceptional reasoning."

"If she doesn't feel like sharing then she doesn't _have _to, Huey," Bruce reminded him. The boy, or Huey, rolled his eyes again.

"If she didn't want me getting in her business she wouldn't have told me what she did." He glanced back towards Hayley, whose fist had clenched. "Let me guess. Mommy and daddy don't give you the attention you feel you deserve so much."

Hayley felt her jaw tightening. One thing she hated more than anything was when people decided to judge a situation they knew nothing about. When she didn't say anything in response he nodded and shrugged, turning back towards Bruce.

"See?" He went back to his book. "Figuring people out isn't so hard."

"And let _me _guess." She spoke before she could even think twice about her words. "You must think you're so cool standing in a _gas station _at one in the morning to look down on people you don't even know just to feel better about your own sorry life." His dark eyes lifted. "Aren't _you _special."

Behind the counter, Bruce snorted. Huey snapped his book shut, straightening and shaking his head.

"Let me set you straight, _Hayley_," he said in a hard voice, catching her off guard. She didn't even know that he'd remembered her name. "I don't find myself to be superior to others. I call things the way I see them, whether I'm right or mistaken. And _you_-" he gestured to her, causing her eyebrows to rise. "-can't just walk around with some attitude that you probably don't even know the reason behind and expect someone not to acknowledge it. Now, if I'm _wrong_, feel free to speak up." He leaned back again, his eyes holding some kind of challenge in them. He seemed to have a thing with being a know-it-all. "I don't have anywhere to be. I've got all damn night."

Hayley blinked, staring at him. He stared back. Out the corner of her eye she could see Bruce looking between the two of them, as if watching a ping pong match. Finally, she cleared her throat.

"If my father," she said quietly, her throat tight. "Didn't let his love affair with alcohol control his emotions and actions, I wouldn't be here having this conversation in the first place."

No one said anything. Behind the counter she heard Bruce let out a low whistle.

"Now." He flipped open a magazine, scanning the page. "That's some serious shit right there."

"Thank you, Bruce." Huey shook his head before training his eyes on Hayley again. She rolled her own eyes, turning on her heel.

"Keep the drink." She started for the door. "Have a good one."

"So, you're just going to run away."

She stopped glancing over her shoulder. The afro wearing boy was staring at her again, his expression impassive. She shrugged.

"What else am I supposed to do?"

He seemed to think for a moment, and then he was shrugging as well.

"You could try to _stop _running, for one." Something on her face must have given away her annoyance since he went on after taking another sip of coffee. "I don't mean you should hop on the next flight to Hawaii and get your ass handed to you. It just seems like you're in a stable environment here. Then again," he went on, his tone dry. "I seem to have been wrong about everything _else _concerning you, so I could be incorrect about this as well."

She hesitated, her mind flashing to her aunt; her stern but fair aunt who hadn't given her any poor treatment in the short time she'd been there. Who had accommodated her every need since her unannounced arrival. "It is."

"Then why leave it?"

"Because." She paused, not quite believing that she was admitting this to someone she didn't even know. "He could come looking for me."

Huey and Bruce exchanged looks, and then Huey was shrugging all over again, sipping at his coffee.

"And?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"If he comes looking then he comes looking. It is what it is." When she continued to look angry he sighed, setting down his cup. "This place, especially if you aren't of the black persuasion, is crawling with cops, social workers, nosy ass community members…the point is, let's say he _does _try to come and drag you home. For one, he'd be setting himself up to get busted for being a negligent parent, especially if he slips up and tries to use force. For another thing, whether he comes tomorrow or in five years…eventually you're probably going to meet up with him again. It's just bound to happen." He shrugged once again. "The only way running ever works is if you never stop. And, unfortunately, everyone stops eventually. Everyone."

"Pot calling the kettle black!" Bruce sang mockingly from behind the register. Huey shot him a dirty look.

"Who asked you, again?"

Hayley shook her head, staring down at her feet. After another round of silence Bruce cleared his throat.

"He does have a point. Besides, how old are you? Fourteen? Fifteen?"

"_Sixteen_." Honestly. Would anyone _ever _get her age right? Bruce snorted.

"My point is, you ain't eighteen." He tossed aside the magazine. "And when you're traveling the coast alone trying to make it on your own and you're not eighteen, you're probably going to get busted. You're going to get chucked into social services' care and they're either going to ship you to some foster family until you hit the one eight, or they're going to call your parents, who are going to sound relieved about their missing child and get you put back on the next plane to beat down island."

"And you talk about _me_?" Huey spoke up, giving Bruce an odd look. The older man waved his hand.

"Hush. Anyway, kid." He looked back to the Asian girl with a calm smile. "The best thing to do is stay here and live your life. And if…well, _when_ he comes looking for you, you can be ready."

Hayley glanced at the both of them, mulling over their words. They _did _have good points. And she _was _already settled here, as much as she thought that she'd hate it…she nodded.

"Okay." She jammed her hands in her pockets, staring at the floor. "Whatever."

"Good." Bruce nodded, going back to his magazine. Huey nodded as well, giving her a quick glance over.

"Another thing." She looked up. "I know enough people already with attitudes. Feel free to lose yours."

She glared. "That's something that's not going anywhere."

He shrugged before nodding again, retrieving his book. "That just might be a good thing." He flipped through the pages. "Can't have another Jazmine around…"

"Who?"

"Nobody." He picked up the now empty coffee pot, shaking it. "What's a nigga gotta do to get some _service _around this piece?"

"Watch it, black boy." Bruce shook his head, heading from around the counter to take the pot from Huey. He rolled his eyes towards Hayley. "You give people free things and this is what happens. They just keep coming _back_."

"Why _are _you here, by the way?" she couldn't help but ask curiously. Huey shrugged, gesturing around the mini mart.

"I enjoy the atmosphere."

It took a moment for her to realize he was being sarcastic.

"And when you're not here for the atmosphere…"

Huey sighed, rolling his eyes. "I told you last night already. _Please _don't tell me you're another one of those "I hear but I don't listen" types." He continued reading his book. "I am _over _people like that."

"Too bad you're going to have to deal with people like that for the rest of your life!" Bruce chimed in from where he was brewing more coffee. Huey sucked his teeth.

"You _would _remind me of that."

"You _would _fail to notice it yourself."

"I _did _notice it. I just chose not to acknowledge it."

Hayley's head tilted to the side as she watched them. Were they _always _like this?

"You drink coffee, Hayley?" Bruce suddenly asked, surprising her again. That was what happened when growing up as number nine of thirteen children. Unless you were being punished your own family didn't acknowledge you existed, so it was a shock when others did. She numbly shook her head. He made a face. "Soda?"

She pointed towards the counter, where her lone Yahoo sat. "I drink those, mostly."

He nodded thoughtfully before gesturing to it. "Then grab it." When she didn't move he snorted. "Free charge."

She nodded as well, walking back up to the counter and grabbing it. As she shook it she saw Bruce point to himself.

"I'm Bruce. That sullen, depressing thing over _there_-" He gestured to Huey, who didn't even glance up. "-would be Huey, in case you didn't already know." He yawned. "You're welcome to stay if you want."

"She _is_?"

"_Yes, Huey_." Bruce rolled his eyes towards Huey's outburst. "This is _still _a public venue. And come on." He rolled his eyes. "We've finally come across someone else in this damn town that has _problems_."

"Oh, _everyone _here has problems." His gaze flickered over to Hayley. "Only they're just what they _think _constitutes being problems. Never legitimate ones."

Hayley shook her head, taking her drink and slowly walking towards them, leaning against the coffee station as well. She took a sip, shrugging and glancing his way.

"You'd be surprised what problems people have." She snorted, staring back towards the store windows into the night. The other two did the same. "You'd be surprised."

* * *

The dumb can had run out _already_.

Riley let out a frustrated groan, tossing the empty black spray paint can aside and digging into his backpack for another one. He crouched lower behind the bushes as he spotted some jogging couple, smiling and grinning as if they didn't have a care in the world.

Stupid bitches. They probably didn't.

The fifteen year old's gloved fingers connected with the solid, smooth outside of another can and he brought it out the bag, grinning as he pressed on the nozzle. A stream of red paint came whizzing out, mixing with the air and fading away. He cackled, shaking the can and resuming his task.

Who the fuck jogged at some two in the morning, anyway?

"What the fuck is you doin'?"

Riley's head whipped up to see a group of boys around his age across the street, standing in a circle. In the middle stood another figure, one whose face he couldn't make out. He sat up.

A nigga was bout to _get. It._

"Man, lemme tell you what happened." The center person's frightened tenor managed to reach his ears. "I had yo money, but-"

"You _had _it?" One of the boys, a guy in a plain white t and a du rag, stepped forward and shoved the boy. "Nigga, had it ain't _got _it! I don' give a fuck bout yo yo _had _it. Who you think I am?"

"I-"

"Man, carry yo _bullshit _somewhere!" He shoved the boy again; this time, he fell to the ground. "I ain't got time ta be hearin' yo lies." Suddenly he was pulling out a gun, aiming it square for the boy's head. He let out a terrified scream and Riley jumped to his feet without thinking.

"Aye!" A good ten heads turned to stare his way. He rolled his eyes. "Ya'll niggas can't be doin that shit round deez parts! You forreal?"

The one with the gun took a step forward, and then he was aiming it towards the youngest Freeman.

"Says who." His voice was low, cold. Unfazed, Riley smacked his lips.

"The fed man when deez nosy ass white folk ring dem up!" The boy froze. "I mean, damn. Ya'll outta know wat parts ta hit up and wat ones ta avoid. Dis po po central up ova here." He nodded down the road. "Now, Rockwood? Shit." He snorted. "You can kill a nigga up in Rockwood and a nigga ain' gon snitch unless you fendin' ta castrate dey ass."

The boy glanced over his shoulder, back to the others. They all exchanged look, shrugging and mumbling among themselves. Finally he glanced back towards Riley, lowering the barrel. His eyes narrowed.

"We ain' from round this way. We stay out near Baltimore. But _dis nigga_-" He struck the boy in the back of the head with his gun, causing him to groan and fall to his knees before he hit the ground, unconscious. "-was tryna play me, so I had to come up out here." He surveyed Riley with a look. "But shit. Lemme find out cool niggas like you stay out Whitecrest. We might have ta come back."

"Do watchu gotta do, homes." Riley flipped his spray can in his hand. The boy nodded before snapping his fingers again.

"Strip him."

At that instant the others began to take the boy's belongings, grabbing and snatching at his belongings until all he had were his boxers. One of the boys rummaged through his wallet, sucking his teeth.

"Dis lyin ass motha fucka." He pulled out a stack of bills. "He had mo' den we hit him up fo."

"Ain't dat how dat shit always work?" The boy with the gun, presumably the leader, waved his hand. "Let's roll." As the others began down the street he stopped, giving Riley another look.

"The name's C." He nodded towards him. "You gon be seein' me round."

"Word?" Riley forced his voice to be as indifferent as C's. "Aiight. See you round, son."

C smirked, pocketing his gun as he calmly rejoined his group. Riley glanced towards the unconscious boy in the center of the road, shaking his head and dropping his can in his backpack.

"Nigga prolly had it comin." He tossed his backpack over his shoulder, turning away and walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of the others. As he did he couldn't help but grin.

He'd finally run into some _real _niggas round this joint…and he was gon see them again.

Hell. Yeah.

Something told him that shit was finally about to get real.

* * *

Because my friend, who read over this, pointed out how sensitive people can be about certain things, I will say that no offense was meant by the remark regarding welfare. _Please. _My mother's on it. When I turn 22 if she's still on it I'll be eligible for food stamps. I don't want to hear it. I have nothing against government assistance. Except for, you know, when people abuse the shit out of it.

Uh, thanks for reading! Please, review!  
...I mean dude, I stayed up till 4 am finishing this for ya'll. DANG. :)

-Kelsey


	7. Countdown

So, a gagillion years later, here's the next chapter!

I'm only telling you all this because I don't want you to be _too _confused; any chapter that is all italicized means that it's not occuring in the present time. Also, they're usually significantly shorter than the other chapters (In case you haven't noticed, I do LOOONG chapters). They may seem like they don't fit, but they're there for a reason.

There was some confusion over the first chapter with some. I'm just trying to clarify.

Anyways, thanks to MissG2020, BlueDolphin2011, missingthepoint, and Kirara2468 for the reviews!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks

* * *

_Countdown_

_It was cloudy overhead, a good thunderstorm in the making. _

_Good. She loved thunderstorms. They seemed to say everything she couldn't. It was as if the earth was unleashing its anger, its frustration, its sadness, on the world. She felt a bit of gratification as the speedometer surged to sixty._

_It seemed as if speeding, as if running, was the only way she could escape it. The feeling of being someone so different she didn't even recognize herself anymore. The parties, the drugs, the boys._

_Girls wanted her as their best friend. Boys wanted her in ways they'd never wanted her before. Everyone wanted her. No one had cared about the old her, and now everyone was trying to get a peace. She'd be stupid to go back to her old ways. As far as she was concerned, her old self was dead. She'd died when the pressure had gotten too great. When she'd been entrusted with one secret too many. When she'd gone too far to ever turn back. _

_She'd bailed._

_Seventy. Seventy-five. Eighty._

_She was surprised she wasn't being pulled over yet. The thing was, she wouldn't even care. She'd laugh in the officer's face. She was doing reckless driving? Please. Her life was reckless. Everything was just so ridiculously reckless, and dangerous, and it was just so easy to…_

_Lose yourself._

_Ninety._

_A raindrop splashed against her windshield, followed by another. The rain. She realized that she wasn't even heading towards school, that she was driving in the exact opposite direction. She didn't know where she was going, but it didn't bother her._

_Ninety one…Ninety two…Ninety three…_

_She watched the tiny white needle rise, feeling her adrenaline kick in._

_Ninety four…_

_Honk._

_Her heart stopped in her chest. She looked up just in time to see a truck heading straight for her, its high beams nearly blinding as they shown through the windshield._

_Ninety five._

_She slammed on the brakes, gripping the wheel as the tires spun and the car fought against her control. She spun the wheel the opposite way to avoid the other vehicle, which was swerving as well._

_Eighty…seventy…sixty…_

_The world was spinning in a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to run together the more she attempted to dissect them. Her eyes widened as she spotted the guardrail that she was quickly sailing towards._

_CRASH._

_There was a sharp, painful thump that seemed to cause shockwaves to run through her entire body. She lurched forward, only to be shot back by the eruption of her air bag. The impact of it made her see stars._

_There was loud, tearing sound. She barely had time to react before there was a loud blaring of a horn, followed by another, even bigger thump that hit her from behind._

_Fifty…forty…thirty…_

_She could hear the glass shattering around her, felt it pelt her as the outside wind hit the interior of her car full force. And then, she heard screaming._

_It was loud and piercing, tearing through the eerie silence. She inhaled sharply, squeezing her eyes shut._

_Twenty. _

_Everything ached. Everything hurt. It hurt so bad…_

_Ten. Nine. Eight._

_"Her door! Open her door!"_

_"I can't! It won't open! Hey!" She heard a tapping above her head that she felt too sluggish to acknowledge. "Ma'am! Are you alright?"_

_Seven. Six. Five._

_She was pressed against the steering wheel, her hands gripping it as she tried to handle the pain. It was everywhere. It was physical. It was emotional._

_It was finally, finally, inescapable._

_Four..._

_Give in._

_She couldn't. She couldn't do it. She wasn't strong enough to face it all. She wasn't strong enough…_

_"Get an ambulance!"_

_"She was going so fast…I thought she'd see me-"_

_"What about the other guy-"_

_"I'm here. I'm fine."_

_Their voices were so loud. Everything was just so loud…_

_Give in._

_Three…_

_Let it go. Just give in._

_If she accepted it, if she let herself feel it…she'd only hurt worse._

_Two…_

_She had nowhere else to go. No other way. There was only her. Only this._

_One._

_Give in._

_She sighed. She let her grip slacken. She let the feelings, let the thoughts, let the images consume her. She was vaguely aware of everything fading to black. The pain was ebbing away, the feeling was disappearing…_

_'Okay.'_

_Zero._

* * *

Since you've all been waiting so long I'm going to TRY (emphasis on "try") to put up a longer length one sometime this week. I can't make any promises. I'm still deep in the throes (teehee) of job-hunting, so yeah...

Anyways, thanks for reading! Share your thoughts! And feel free _not _to kick my ass for this being so short.

-Kelsey


	8. Setbacks

Yay! I actually accomplished something I said I'd do! I feel accomplished. Haha. Anyways, thank you to Kirara2468 and MissG2020 for the reviews! And...that's it.

...I know. Shortie, right? :O

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks

* * *

Setbacks

_Five Months Earlier_

Huey had actually managed to get a few minutes of shut eye before he heard possibly the loudest shriek ever known to man outside his window.

Holy _hell_.

He bolted up from where he'd been sitting up in Grandad's recliner, rubbing his eyes. The old man himself had fallen asleep sitting up on the sofa, his head tilted back and loud snores erupting from his mouth. He gave him a quick look, deeming him to be okay for the time being before pushing himself to his feet and heading for the stairs. A pair of socked feet were already thundering down and then Riley was appearing a few steps from the bottom, tugging a wife beater over his head.

"Wat da _fuck _was dat shit?"

"I don't know," Huey lied, shrugging.

He knew _exactly _what it was, and if it weren't for the fact that it was the ninth of September he would've went outside with a shotgun, thinking the girl was getting shot or robbed or something. In actuality, it was Jazmine's seventeenth birthday…

…And that screaming must have meant that she just saw her present.

Huey went over to the front door, pulling it open and stepping outside, stifling a yawn; Riley poked his head out as well. Sure enough he could see a head of bright, curly hair bouncing up and down as Jazmine jumped around, screaming. A blond that was standing in the front doorway was laughing; she was too young to be Jazmine's mother. In fact, it seemed like it was just the two of them…

Damn. Were her parents _ever _home?

"Oh!" Riley sucked his teeth, shaking his head and giving his brother a look of disdain. "Dat's just Jazzy ass goin retarded over _yo _car dat you couldn't give yo _own brotha_-"

"Once again…wait, why do I bother?" Huey rolled his eyes as Riley disappeared back into the house, shutting the door behind him and starting across the street. Jazmine had grabbed Cindy's hand and they were now both jumping around in huge circles, screaming at the top of their lungs. He stopped beside what was once his car and shook his head at the new owner. She was so excited she was _crying_.

What _didn't _make that girl cry?

"You two-" he said, making them gasp and spin around. "-are going to wake up the entire neighborhood."

"OHMIGAWD!" He barely had time to prepare himself before Jazmine was leaping into his arms, nearly strangling him and causing him to stumble back a few steps. "THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU-"

"I need _oxygen_!" he managed, gently prying the ecstatic girl off him. She gave him an apologetic look as he set her back on the ground and took a step back.

"Sorry." She gestured towards the car, where Cindy was examining the glossy black paint and playing with the big red bow that was on it. "But I woke up and no one was home-"

"What else is new?"

"Shut up." Jazmine smacked his arm, smirking. She seemed to be in such a better mood than the day before that he couldn't even get annoyed by the way she was talking a mile a minute, how she couldn't stop smiling. "So I go downstairs and there's this note from my dad, and it tells me to go into the living room. So I do, and there's another note-"

"He had a freakin' scavenger hunt going on." Cindy tossed her tousled hair behind her shoulders, shaking her head. "I was like "You've _got _to be kidding me"-"

"-But finally it told me to go outside." Jazmine jumped up and down, clapping her hands enthusiastically. Huey rolled his eyes. "Huey! You gave me a _car_!"

Whoa. "What? Uh uh." He quickly shook his head. "Your parents _paid _me for it. The only thing being given right now is a headache, and that's from you."

"Well, you made it obtainable for my possession." Jazmine stuck out her tongue before smiling again. "So, thank you."

He shrugged. "Whatever."

"So _that's _why he spent the entire summer teaching you how to drive the thing," Cindy pointed out.

"Correction: I taught her because she was originally going to get Tom's old car, which is also a manual." He shuddered. "She could _barely _drive an automatic-"

"Hey!"

"-but then he purchased mine a few days ago." He shrugged again as Jazmine and Cindy exchanged grins. "So…yeah."

"Soooo…you basically gave her a car."

It was official. He was surrounded by morons.

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever." He rolled his eyes again. "Happy birthday."

Jazmine grinned again, catching him off guard with another hug.

"Can you _stop _that?" She let him go, looking put out. "Can I get a warning? An Amber alert? Something advising me to prepare myself to be on the receiving end of Jazmine Dubois' lovefests?"

"Oh, boo hoo." Cindy smirked. "Nice pajamas."

"Go somewhere, McPhearson."

"Please don't start." Jazmine gave them both looks. "It's my birthday!"

"Ah. Yes." Cindy wrapped her arm around her shoulders. "And what will we doing for your birthday, exactly? Your parents won't be back till Sunday, _this one-_" She shot Huey, who lifted his eyebrows, a glare. "-is too good to be seen in public with you, and-"

"Your insults are so endearing." Huey hated that girl. He really did. He could tell that he was about to hate her even more when Jazmine ran into the house and she stayed, planting her hands on her hips.

"Here's the deal, Freeman." Her blue eyes narrowed, causing his to do the same. Jazmine's excited squealing could vaguely be heard in the background. "I don't know if you've noticed it but Jazmine's been in a shitty mood lately."

He _had _noticed, but since she knew better than to pry in his business he wasn't going to do it to _her._

_"_I don't know why and I don't know how she got down, but today is her _birth-day_," Cindy went on, saying the two syllable word as if he were hard of hearing. "Which means, basically, don't go thinking about reneging on your little deal. Because she's bummed out enough without you making it worse."

"I didn't know you were here security guard all of a sudden." His voice was filled with sarcasm.

"_No_," Cindy snapped with enough force to make his eyebrows lift. "I'm even worse." She spun on her heel, starting for the house as well. "I'm her best friend." She stopped to glance over her shoulder at him when she reached the front door. "And I think she could do _so _much better."

Huey glared. Cindy stepped into the house, slamming the door. Huey shook his head, turning on his own heel and heading back across the street.

"Wat wuz dey sayin?" Riley asked as he came back in the house, shutting the door behind him. He shrugged, leaning against the door.

"Nothing worth repeating." He straightened, heading into the living room and stopping when he saw the empty couch. "Where's Grandad?"

"He in his room! Damn!" Riley shoved past him to get into the kitchen, going into the refrigerator and withdrawing a carton of orange juice. "Hop off his nuts!"

Huey glared at him. "Just be ready to leave in thirty minutes."

"If I _ain't_?"

"Then yo ass _ain't _gettin' a ride to school and you'll be walking!" He rolled his eyes. "It is _not _that difficult to figure out."

"Whateva." Riley tilted his head back, lifting the carton to his lips. "Where wuz you at dis mornin'?"

"What?"

"Dis mornin', nigga!" Riley rolled his own hazel eyes. "I walked past yo door ta take a dump round four an you won't in thur!"

"Well, where were you at two?"

"Nuh uh! Don't turn dis round on Reezy!" Riley smacked his lips. "Why you gotta be a bitch instead of just tellin' me?"

"And why are you avoiding _my _question?"

"Cuz yo questions don't matta-" They both abruptly cut off as the slam of a door upstairs sounded. "Damn. Wat's Grandad doin?"

There was silence. Huey's eyes narrowed and he shook his head, starting for the stairs. However, he stopped when Grandad himself started down the steps, wearing a robe and holding the paper. He fanned himself, shaking his head.

"Wooo! Don't nobody go in there for thirty five to forty five minutes."

"Uhhh Grandad!" Riley yelled from inside the kitchen. "Nigga, you stink!"

"Boy, shut_up_." Grandad shook his head, glancing at Huey as he passed. "Boy, when the _hell _is you gon get a haircut? You gon do it _sometime _durin' my lifetime?"

Funny. Huey watched him walk into the kitchen, shaking his head before he started up the steps.

* * *

"And welcome, ingrates, to in-school suspension."

Riley scowled, drumming his fingers on the edge of his desk. The teacher, a man with a pudgy face that tended to turn red whenever he displayed any sort of emotion, was standing in front of the front desk, holding a yardstick that he had no problem slamming against the blackboard.

"Now, I don't have to tell you delinquents why you're here," he said in his stern, yet wobbly, voice. He began pacing in front of the front desks, giving the grand total of ten teenagers a dirty scowl. "You all know what you did."

"Uh, actually?" A blond haired guy lifted his hand, shrugging. "I thought this was Health and Nutrition…?"

"Get out!" the man snapped, causing him to grab his backpack and scurry out the room. Once the door slammed shut again the teacher trained an evil eye on the rest of them. "Now, does anyone else believe that they're in the wrong place?"

Riley snorted, rising to his feet along with the others and starting for the door.

"SIT DOWN!"

"Damn, then!" Riley threw himself back in his seat, glowering at him. "What da hell you tellin' us ta go if we think we in da wrong place fo den?"

"Because, Mr…" The teacher checked his chart, squinting. "Redding?"

"_Who_?"

"No one cares who you are!" Riley's scowl deepened. "The fact that you're here shows that you don't care about who you are _either_-"

"I'm going to need for you to take some of that bass out your voice, teach."

Riley, along with the other freshmen and sophomores who'd had the misfortune of being chucked in ISS, quickly stared towards the door. A too familiar female with wavy hair in a messy bun and a scowl almost as permanent as his sorry brother's strode in, two cups of coffee in her hands and her backpack over her shoulder. She shut the door with her foot, giving the now red faced teacher a look.

"_What_?"

"Ms. Johansen." He shook his head as she handed him a cup of coffee, keeping the other for herself. She sat on the edge of his desk, taking a long sip and closing her eyes. "Didn't I tell you to be here at nine?"

Riley watched Maya crack an eye open long enough to survey the man with an indifferent look. She glanced towards the clock on the wall, the clock that clearly read 9:25 am, and shrugged.

"So?"

The teacher sighed, massaging his temples. "Alright, deviants. Meet your head of in-school suspension for first period."

Riley's jaw dropped. How the hell did _Maya's _crazy ass, of _all _the crazy asses out there, get to run the place for badass kids like him?

"Now, Maya Johansen-" The teacher gestured to her; she had her legs crossed and an annoyed look on her face. "-is a reformed delinquent. So I suggest that any of you who think you can do something she hasn't seen to think again. And I'd advise you to learn from her example and _try _to improve your ghastly behavior."

_Reformed_? Riley snorted. Yeah, right.

"Now, I will be back at the start of second period-" The teacher glanced towards Maya, who stared back. "-so just make sure none of them leave."

Maya snorted. "Whatever." She continued to sip at her coffee as the man grabbed his briefcase, quickly backing out the room and gently shutting the door behind him. The moment his shadow disappeared from underneath the door Riley grabbed his backpack, jumping to his feet.

"Fuck dis-"

"_Sit."_

Whoa. Riley blinked, slowly dropping his bag and easing into his chair. The others looked as shocked as he felt. Since when was Maya of all people suddenly so intimidating?

Ah. Right. Ever since he'd discovered that she burned down _buildings _for fun.

"So, here's the deal." Maya set down her coffee cup, sliding off the desk and putting a hand on her hip. "Today is _not _my day. And if you knew me you'd know that _no day_ is evermy day. So just sit there, do something…_quiet_, and don't irk my nerves. _What?_" she snapped at a girl in the second row who raised her hand. The girl swallowed.

"Can we…listen to music?"

"I don't give a shit _what _you do." Maya flopped into the chair behind the teacher's desk, propping her feet on the surface and reaching for her cup again. "Just don't bother me."

"Cool," one of the boys mumbled before everyone was digging into their purses and bookbags, breaking out MP3 players or other forms of entertainment. Riley watched all of them for a few moments before pushing himself out his desk again, walking up to the desk and giving Maya a look.

"How da hell _you _get ta regulate ISS?"

Maya's eyes slowly lifted up to his face. She lowered the cup from her lips.

"Didn't I tell you not to _bother _me?"

"Nigga, please." Riley flopped onto the desk, swinging his feet. "So like, dis part of yo community service or somethin?"

"No. This is me not having a first period every other day and doing this as a result." Maya sighed, examining her nails. "What the hell did you _do_? It's only the what, third day of school?"

"Man, niggas was bein' stupid." Riley rolled his eyes. "At least I ain' goin' round settin' shit on fire-"

"Wow. You just _had _to bring that up." Maya closed her eyes. "Go back to your seat, Freeman."

"Man, you don run me!"

"While we're in _this room_, I run whoever the fuck I want." Maya seemed even more annoyed than usual. "So just get out my face."

"Damn!" Riley scooted off the desk, glaring at her. "Wat is yo _problem_? Ain' burned down enough shit lately?"

"_Yeah, actually_," Maya snapped. Riley blinked. She rolled her eyes, taking another sip of coffee and glancing past him to make sure the others weren't paying attention. When she deemed it to be safe she shook her head, straightening again and glancing up at him. "It's a compulsion thing, alright?" Her voice was much lower. "It's not like I _plan _it. I just…do it."

Riley scratched his head. "Wait…all dem fires out Meadowlark's way dis summa…dey was _you_?"

Maya folded her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowed.

"Maybe."

Riley sucked his teeth. "_Maybe_?"

"Look, your loud ass knows too much already anyway, so just _drop _it." She waved her hand. "Go…sit down somewhere or something."

"You eva set a _person _on fire?"

"No! God…" Maya sighed, closing her eyes and running her hands over her face. "Leave me alone, Freeman. I am so serious. I am not in the mood-"

"Yo ass ain' eva in no mood, so calm down." Riley stared at the clock hanging over her head. Damn. First period was _nowhere _close to being over. Maya shook her head, her hands still covering her eyes.

"If you had my family you'd never be in the mood either."

"Whateva, son!" Riley sat on the desk again, resting his arms on his knees. "Like you don know wat mah brotha like."

"Like you don't know what my sister's like."

"I don', forreal tho." Riley's head tipped to the side. "I don' run wit dem yunguns like dat. In fact, her ass younger than you! You can just shut her down like you do errybody else-"

"See, it's not that easy." Maya shook her head. "Kat's perfect and sweet and everything wonderful and I'm…whatever." Her hands dropped to her lap. "She's the ideal child. I'm not. It's not easy controlling someone when they know they're better than you."

Riley blinked. "But she ain' betta than you."

Maya's eyebrows lifted. For a moment she didn't say anything and then she was snorting, resting her chin in her hand.

"What the hell do _you _know?"

Riley glared at her. She glared back.

"Excuse me, can I use the rest-"

"You can sit your ass down and get out my _face_, little boy!" The boy who had come up behind Riley scurried back to his seat and she glanced back to him, her features seeming to soften. And then she was glowering all over again.

"My mom is forever telling me I need to be more like her." Maya shrugged. "_Everyone _wonders why I'm not like her. Being the sibling who everyone sees as a screw up isn't fun. It's even worse since _I'm _the oldest. I'm supposed to be setting an example."

"Well bein da youngest don' do much shit fo me no way." When Maya gave him a confused look Riley smacked his lips, scowling. "Man, I got bitches I don even _kno _who come up ta me an tell me all da reasons mah wack ass brotha's betta than me! Yea, like I don' kno his ass smart or whateva! Like I don _kno _he gon do somethin' with his life!"

Maya snorted, shaking her head and glancing towards the door. "People always want you to be somebody else."

"Hell. Yea." Riley shook his head, staring at the ceiling. "Nobody eva be appreciatin' you da way you are."

"Of course not." Maya sighed as Riley took a deep breath. "And it just makes you feel like such a-"

"-_Failure,_" they both mumbled to themselves. Their heads whipped up, both of them staring at each other with surprised expressions. Maya slowly shook her head.

"You can be a complete idiot sometimes. And I can't _stand _you most days." She paused. "But…you're not a failure."

Riley shrugged, giving her a sidelong glance.

"You ain' either."

The girl sat up, tucking her legs underneath her. Riley stared at his shoes. For the first time in the history of knowing her he didn't feel annoyed just being in the same room as her. Considering that he could barely tolerate most females he knew that said something.

"So, why exactly are you in here again?"

Maya's voice caused him to blink and glance towards her. She shrugged, holding her coffee again.

"Man, it's a long story." He shook his head. "You don' wanna hear it."

Maya's gaze quickly slept the room before settling on him again; she rolled her eyes.

"Humor me."

Riley gave her a wary look. "Man if I start talkin' is you gon interrupt an tell me how retarded I am?"

Maya sighed. "No."

"…You sure?"

"The longer you take the less I care." When Riley glared at her she waved her hand. "Okay, okay. How about this…you talk. And I listen."

He blinked.

"And I won't say anything at all. I promise." When he continued to look reluctant she sighed again. "I keep my promises. Always."

Riley gave her a quick glance over. She was looking at him with a deadpan expression, expectant. She was so headstrong and bossy that she probably expected him to start spouting off his feelings like a faucet just because she'd given him some so-called promise.

_Whatever. _Just because their siblings sucked didn't make anything different from what it had been before. He still couldn't stand her. And he knew that she hated his ass. He couldn't care less.

She was just another dumb broad anyway.

Riley scowled.

"I ain' gotta tell yo ass _nothin._"

Maya blinked. And then, as if she'd been doing it the entire time, she glared.

"Have it your way, Freeman." She sat back again, propping her feet up on the desk once again and reaching for a newspaper the teacher had left behind. Not bothering to even try to salvage the conversation Riley slid off the desk, returning to his seat. "Have it your way."

* * *

"Happy birthday, kiddo."

Jazmine looked up from her lunch tray to see a bright ass yellow flyer that was falling onto her lap. She blinked, picking it up and scanning it before glancing up at Caesar and Hiro's excited faces.

"You're handing out _flyers _for the auditions?" She balled it up and tossed it at Hiro so that it bonked him in the forehead before rolling to the grass. Caesar rolled his eyes, giving her a "duh" look.

"How else would people learn about it?"

"I don't know…the way they find out every other detail about everyone's lives in this school?" When they both merely gave her puzzled glances in response she shrugged. "Word of mouth?"

"Oh." Hiro nodded. "That…makes sense-"

"That's it!" Caesar suddenly snapped his fingers, grinning down at Jazmine. "Jazzy J, you're a _genius_."

Jazmine's eyebrow rose. "…Why?"

""Word of Mouth"." Caesar turned to Hiro, holding up his hands. "Name? Eh? _Eh_?"

Hiro blinked, then shook his head.

"_Meh._"

"Meh? _Meh_?" Caesar frowned. "How is that _meh_?"

"How can I stand listening to you two babble about _crap_?" Cindy suddenly interjected loudly, causing them both to look at her as she dropped her tray beside Jazmine's and slid into the seat. "Seriously, _what_?"

"They're handing out flyers for their auditions," Jazmine explained, poking at her fish sticks with a fork. Her nose wrinkled. "They should let me back there to make the food. This…is an insult to culinary appreciators _everywhere_."

"Yeah, uh huh, whateva. Jazmine!" Caesar reached down, shaking her by her shoulders. She squeaked. "You know you wanna audition!"

"_What_?" Jazmine gave him a horrified look. "I sure as heck do _not_!"

"Aw, come on!" Hiro threw up his hands. "We need a bomb ass keyboardist!"

"Then I hope you find one today 'cause I sure ain't doing it." Jazmine shook her head, her attention now on her suspicious looking green beans. "Besides, I've got plans already."

"Really?" Caesar's eyebrows lifted. "For what?"

"Uh, duh." Jazmine poked him. "It's my birthday! I'm gonna be getting birthday gifts and doing birthday…things, and there's gonna be other birthday…stuff."

Caesar and Hiro exchanged looks. Even Cindy's eyebrow was lifted.

"So basically…you're not sure _what _you're doing yet."

Jazmine's shoulders slumped. "Nope."

Caesar and Hiro snorted. Jazmine turned towards Cindy, her eyebrows lifting when she glanced at her tray.

"You just got a _salad_?" Even _that _observation quieted the laughing boys behind her. Cindy, who was holding her fork, shrugged.

"Yeah."

Jazmine frowned. "You _hate _salad. In fact you're probably the only person who hates salads more than _I _do!"

"She gotta point," Hiro pointed out. Cindy rolled her eyes.

"Maybe I'm trying to change my _lifestyle _or some shit." She took a sip of water, shrugging again. "I eat too much crap anyways. Basketball season's coming up soon. I can't be a pig and expect to be in shape for it."

"But I love that you eat so much crap!" Jazmine pouted. Caesar snorted.

"Yeah, because _you _eat as much crap as she does."

"Do _not_!"

"Jazmine, you ate an entire chocolate cake, a jumbo bag of chili cheese Fritos, _and _three fish tacos in the span of an hour," Caesar said, rolling his eyes. Jazmine shot him a dirty look.

"It was a _good _cake!"

"So good that the rest of us couldn't get any?" Hiro complained. Cindy rolled her eyes again, shooting them evil looks.

"Leave Jazzy alone. She can afford it." She gazed over the girl, shaking her head. "I don't think she's gained weight since ninth grade."

"_Not _true!" Jazmine threw her napkin at her best friend, who stuck out her tongue. "What are you complaining about, anyway? We're practically the same size!"

"Yeah." Cindy snorted, taking a bite of her salad. She chewed it slowly, swallowing heavily as if it were torture just putting the stuff in her mouth. "Minus the part where I look like a _whale_."

"Whoa. Delusion central over here!" Hiro gestured to her. "Cindy, you must be on that stuff."

"Really." Jazmine tugged the blonde's sleeve. "Cindy, you look great!"

"Thanks." Cindy's tone was dry. "I could deal with losing a few pounds though."

Jazmine's eyes narrowed. Hiro and Caesar gave each other confused looks.

"I…think this is a girl thing?" Hiro mumbled audibly. Caesar nodded.

"Gotta be." He shook his head. "Because I'm really not getting the logic here."

"Well…" Jazmine stared at Cindy for a few moments before finally nodding. "Just…don't go overboard, okay?" Cindy nodded. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with you now but if you really feel the need to do it-"

"It's no big deal." Cindy looked annoyed. Jazmine still looked worried.

"This doesn't have anything to do with us always joking how much you eat, does it?" She frowned. "Because we don't mean it."

"Jazzy, I _know_-"

"And you don't have to change yourself-"

"This isn't about your stupid jokes or your dumb comments or _whatever_!" Cindy suddenly snapped, making the other three jump. "I just feel like losing a few pounds! It's _my _body! It's not a big freaking deal!" When she noticed Jazmine's facial expression she sighed, softening her tone. "_Okay_?"

Jazmine nodded. As Cindy went back to eating her salad and Caesar and Hiro started arguing over ways to convince her to try out for their band she felt her pocket vibrate. She quickly dug into her jeans and withdrew her cell phone, holding it under the table before a teacher could notice it.

_Happy birthday. If you change your mind, the offer's still good._

It was a text message…but she didn't recognize the number. She made a face, lifting her head and gazing over the courtyard.

Offer? _What _offer…?

It was then that she noticed a blonde sitting on one of the tables near the center of the courtyard, a good eight other people surrounding her. She looked like she was laughing at something one of them was saying, but at that moment chose to lift her own head to look in Jazmine's direction. Their eyes connected and she nodded.

Dory Chandler. Probably one of the most well known students _at _that school. She was mysterious, sophisticated…what could she possibly want to hang out with _Jazmine _for? Jazmine nodded back, the "offer" suddenly rushing back to her mind. She looked back down to her keyboard.

_I'll think about it._

She didn't have to, really; she already had plans. At least she _would _at five, which was when she was supposed to meet Huey under their favorite tree on the hill. It was nice of Dory to try and include her or whatever (even though she was still suspicious of her intentions) but it wasn't necessary. She put her phone back in her pocket just as she was being poked by Riley.

"Nigga, scoot _ova_!"

"It would be so hard to sit in the free chair _on her other side_," Cindy pointed out grudgingly as Riley squeezed his way in between them. Jazmine sighed, sneaking another glance to the center table. By then, Dory's attention was obviously somewhere else.

But then, she noticed her sneak a peek at her phone. A slow smile spread along her lips. And then she was putting it away, going back to her conversation as if nothing had happened.

Did Dory _really _want her as a friend?

"Watchu starin' at, nerd?" Riley waved his hand in front of her face, causing her to blink. "Damn! Close yo mouth befo' a fly roll up in dat jank!"

Jazmine rolled her eyes, turning back to her food.

Leave it to Riley to be the one to remind her why being friends with someone like Dory would never, ever work.

* * *

It was exactly four forty five, which meant that auditions had been going on for a good two hours already.

A.K.A., it was time for him to get the hell out of there.

"As much as I'm enjoying your company," Huey said dryly, trying for possibly the _twentieth _time to book it. "I've really gotta go."

"Aw come on, man!" Caesar, who was sitting on the other side of Hiro, leaned across the Asian to give his best friend a look. "Just a few more!"

"Ceez, you said that a good _forty five minutes _ago." Huey rolled his eyes. "I don't understand why _I _have to be here anyway! I'm not even going to be in your stupid band!"

"_Well_," Hiro huffed sarcastically, tapping his pen against his open notebook. The noises echoed through the music room. "I will ignore that last comment, Freeman. But I _will _answer the first part by saying that you tend to have really good judgment when it comes to picking and choosing things, regardless the subject matter."

"Yep!" Caesar added. "So you could at least use your powers of deductive reasoning for _good _and help out your closest friends."

"And I _have _been helping out my closest friends. For two hours." Huey looked annoyed. "So can I _go_?"

"Aren't you the one who said you didn't have anything to do anyways?" Hiro pointed out.

"Yeah, but that didn't mean I was sacrificing my entire evening to spend analyzing people for a band I'm not even going to be in!"

"You could be!" Caesar grinned. Huey gave him a blank stare.

"Don't even." He looked bored. "I don't play any instruments. I _definitely _don't sing-"

"You could be a ghostwriter!" Hiro snapped his fingers. "You write _all _the time!"

"Yeah, for spoken word nights or for _school_," Huey snapped. "It ain't the same thing-"

"Is too!"

"Is not."

"Yeah, it is!"

"Is not…can you just call the next person in here already?" he snapped, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. Caesar and Hiro shrugged, nodding.

"Well damn…"

"Who peed in _your _Cheerios…?"

"Um…" Huey scanned the sign-up sheet, trying to decipher Hiro's handwriting. He knew that his penmanship wasn't all that great, but _damn_.

"Margaret…Cox?"

The door nearly flew open, a short girl wearing a sombrero and a grin nearly running into the room. Huey blinked before letting the sheet flutter back to the table, shaking his head and grabbing his keys.

"I'm done."

"Huey, come _on_!" Hiro sounded exasperated. "She's the _last_. Person. Is it too much to ask you to stay to hear one last person?"

Huey sighed, flopping back in his seat.

"Man, what_ever_."

Hiro grinned. Caesar merely shook his head, glancing towards the girl who was standing in the middle of the room and clutching a harmonica.

"I'm auditioning for lead singer!" she chimed. Huey rested his chin in his hand, plopping his elbow on the table.

"Interesting." Hiro elbowed him. "_What_?"

"Just…start whenever you're ready." The boy offered Margaret a light smile, glancing at the clock on the wall. Huey did the same.

_4:49._

Great.

Margaret took a deep breath, as if she were trying to suck every last bit of oxygen out the room. Huey sighed, shaking his head.

He could already tell what type of singer _she'd _be.

"TIME ON MY HANDS. SINCE YOU'VE BEEN AWAY BOY!"

Holy. Shit.

Hiro blinked, his eyes wide. Caesar put a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking from held in laughter. Huey merely closed his eyes, trying to not be so annoyed by the fact that instead of being on the way to pick up Jazmine he was listening to a tone deaf, Mary J. Blige wannabe wearing a damn _sombrero _try to belt out notes to a song she probably didn't even know all the words to.

And sure enough…

"I AIN'T GOT NO…UH…HANDS…NO NO NO NO!"

"Um-" Hiro opened his mouth, thought about it, and closed it again. He wasn't good at being mean.

Luckily, he was sitting beside the man who had _invented _the word.

"Aye!" Huey held up his hand, doing a sharp cutting motion that had the girl quieting instantly. She blinked, surprised. "What the _hell _was that?"

"Uh…" The girl scratched the back of her neck. "It was…singing?"

"Bull. Shit."

"Huey." Caesar was hissing, shaking his head. "Constructive criticism. _Constructive_-"

"No." Huey shook his head. "You brought me here to be _honest_. And I'm about to be _real _honest." He turned forward again to the girl, who looked slightly afraid. "You want constructive? Take up tap dance. Or pottery. Maybe even _sewing_." He shook his head. "But for the love of god, stay away from _singing_."

The girl's eyes widened.

"…Please."

Her eyes narrowed.

"You're an asshole!" she shouted. Before the three of them could react she was hurling her harmonica at him, smacking him dead in the forehead. He groaned, clasping his head as the small instrument clattered to the floor. The girl stalked out the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Well." Both Caesar and Hiro were both trying not to laugh at the now infuriated Huey. "Can't say you ain't have it coming."

"Yeah." Hiro shuffled his papers. "You on that time of the month or something? Because you've been _really_…on edge today."

"She…hit me with a harmonica." Huey glared towards the door. "She didn't even _play _the damn thing! What the hell did she _have _it for?"

"Someone needs a nappy nap." Caesar grinned. Huey's eyes narrowed.

"You're not funny." He tossed the harmonica aside, glowering. "Right. So, we're done. Correct?"

"I guess." Hiro frowned, shaking his head at the good three dozen crossed off names. "All those people and not _one _decent singer."

"That girl from Thailand wasn't so bad." Caesar made a face. "Well…until she got so nervous she passed out."

"You know who should've auditioned?" Hiro pointed his pen towards the dreadhead. "Cindy. That girl's gotta voice on her like nobody's business."

"She had a dentist appointment." Caesar shrugged. "I bet she'd be a fill in if it came down to that. We could always ask her…or we could ask Maya!"

Huey snorted. "She's about as vocally gifted as Lady Gaga is clean."

"We could try Jazmine again." Hiro sounded desperate. "She's got a good vocal range."

"We couldn't even get her to play _piano _for us. You really think she's gonna agree to be a _lead _singer?" Caesar rolled his eyes. "Jazmine couldn't lead Lindsay Lohan to _drugs_."

Huey rolled his eyes, listening to the two as they began to argue over the solutions to their lack of a singer predicament. He was just about to tell them both that it wasn't the end of the world and to just hold another audition (when _he _wasn't there) when the door creaked open again, a familiar Asian girl walking in with her hands tucked in the pockets of her sweatpants. Her guitar was strapped to her back, a bored expression on her face. Hiro and Caesar stopped. The three of them stared at her.

"Can…we help you?" Caesar asked. Hayley sucked her teeth, glancing around the room before shrugging.

"You need a lead singer." She rose up on the balls of her feet, dropping back down again. "I need a band."

Hiro's eyebrow rose.

"Well, I _want _one. Whatever." Hayley slowly walked towards the center of the room, examining the high ceilings. "You still holding auditions?"

"Yeah." Hiro held up the sheet. But our last person already-"

"_So_?" Caesar shoved him, making him grunt. Hayley's eyebrows lifted. Hiro shook his head, straightening and turning back towards her.

"So, can you actually play?" He gestured to her guitar. Hayley gave him a bored look.

"No. That's why I'm carrying it around."

Hiro rolled his eyes. Caesar smirked. Huey sighed, tapping his pen on the clipboard.

"Can we just get on with this now?"

"What the hell you in a rush for again?" Caesar's eyebrow rose. "You ain't got nowhere else to be except doing _homework_ or getting your ass kicked at Xbox-"

"Man, shut up."

"Ready when you are," Hiro said over the both of them, shaking his head. Hayley sauntered over to a stool closer to the right side of the music room, flopping onto it and shifting her guitar, adjusting it on her lap. She glanced up at Hiro, a questioning expression on her face.

"What genre you want?" When he looked confused she snorted. "Rock? Soul? Blues? Country? It's really not a hard question."

Caesar snickered. Hiro shot him a dark look before turning back to the annoyed looking girl.

"I don't know. Something meaningful." He shrugged. "Surprise us."

"Just _please_." Huey sighed. "Be _good_."

"Huey-"

"You three done now? Thanks." Hayley shook her head, ignoring them as she gazed down at her guitar. She sighed, taking a deep breath and beginning to play.

Her chords, unlike her grumpy exterior, were soft and gentle. Hiro sat up. On one side, Caesar's eyebrows lifted. Hayley didn't pay attention to any of them, instead taking a soft breath.

_"Could it be the world's grown colder  
Maybe I'm a losing soul  
The more I try it just gets harder  
And the pain is getting old  
Somebody said that nothing lasts forever  
Just the storm so I've been told  
But it seems that when it rains, it pours."_

Hiro's jaw dropped. Caesar blinked as if in disbelief. Huey continued to look bored but even he straightened in his chair, his eyes transfixed on the girl who was currently singing her heart out, her clear tone accented by the guitar that she was strumming.

_"And you know the rain won't last forever  
And you know the storm won't always flow  
But if the sun don't shine forever  
You gotta let it go."_

"Um…Hiro." Huey leaned towards him, his voice a whisper. "She's Asian, right?"

Hiro gave him a look. "Yes?"

"So why does she sound like a black girl?"

Hiro punched him in the arm, shaking his head as he turned back to Hayley, whose eyes had drifted closed.

_"Sometimes my burdens get so heavy  
And it seems too hard to bear  
Sometimes I feel so empty  
And it feels like no one's there  
Somebody said that nothing lasts forever  
Just the storm so I've been told  
But it seems that when it rains, it pours."_

"Holy _shit_," Caesar mumbled. He looked towards the other two, a grin slowly spreading across his face. "She's it." The three of them faced forward again. "She's _definitely _it."

_"And you know the rain won't last forever  
And you know the storm won't always flow  
But if the sun don't shine forever  
You gotta let it go."_

The last of the chords filtered through the room, fading off. The boys sat in stunned silence while Hayley slid off the stool, adjusting the guitar strap so that the instrument was hanging from her back again. She surveyed their faces, giving them an odd look.

"I'm…assuming you'll get back to me if interested."

Caesar nodded dumbly. She sighed, shaking her head and heading for the door.

"Whatever."

"Who was that song by?"

The girl paused at the door and shot Hiro, who had spoken, a look. "S'cuse me?"

"Who wrote that song?" He shrugged. Hayley blinked before rolling her eyes.

"I did."

Hiro's own eyes widened. She pulled open the door, letting it slam shut behind her. Caesar let out a low whistle and shook his head.

"In," he said. Hiro shook his head.

"We need a group vote-"

"In," Caesar and Huey said in unison.

"She's obviously one of the only people here with real talent," Huey told him, staring at the ceiling. "You wanted a lead singer with a strong, raw voice. You found her. Can we _go _now?"

"I know, I know." Hiro made a face. "But that girl's attitude gotta go."

"Please. Her attitude's nothing." Huey rolled his eyes. "It's not even an attitude. More like a no-nonsense approach."

"Why are you defending her?" Caesar asked. "You don't even know her."

"I know, but I really want him to pick her so we can leave."

"Leave? Oh, no." Hiro straightened his papers, his eyes filled with excitement. "This changes _everything_." Noticing the way Huey's eyebrows lifted up he went on. "We have to start planning rehearsing schedules, a meeting…does anyone have her number?"

"What?"

"Okay that's a dumb question, none of us talk to her…we have to decide who our pianist and drummer's gonna be anyway-"

"Wait, wait." Huey held up a hand. "Okay, one? You don't need _me _to do that." Hiro and Caesar rolled their eyes. "And _two_…no. There was only one fact, and that was it. You don't need me." He rose to his feet, grabbing his keys. "You found your lead singer. Excellent. And now, I'm gone."

_4:56. _They had to be _kidding_ him.

"You know, you kind of owe us, man." Caesar shrugged when Huey gave him an incredulous look. "I mean, we didn't see you half the summer. You were always gone doing god knows what with god knows who-"

"And you two were huddled up in Hiro's basement doing the music thing, so what does it matter?" _Really_? "Sorry, _mom_. I didn't know that bothered you so much."

"It doesn't." Caesar straightened, glaring at him. "Stop being so quick to jump on everyone. All I'm trying to say is that we didn't see you a good majority of the summer, and ever since school's started you've been acting…different."

"Different." Huey's voice was flat. Hiro shrugged, cringing at the way the attention suddenly seemed to fall on him.

"It's hard to describe, but you _do _seem like something's been bothering you." His brown eyes were filled with concern from behind his lenses. "Is everything okay?"

"Because, you know," Caesar added, leaning forward. "If something is up, you can tell us."

Huey stared down at them, his eyes narrowed. After a long moment of silence he sighed, slowly sinking back down into his seat.

"No. I'm good." He dropped his keys, running his hands over his face. "Right. What are we about to do, again?"

Hiro and Caesar both grinned.

"Alright." Caesar picked up the list, pointing to it. "This is what we're gonna do."

As both boys began to talk animatedly about their plans, Huey chanced another glance towards the clock.

_5:00._

He shook his head.

_'I'm sorry.'_

* * *

Not much of anything going on in this one. You'll survive.  
This one was supposed to be longer, but I just moved it to next chapter, which I actually did the majority of back in April. I am so serious.

Uh, thanks for reading! Please, review!

Puhleese? :)

-Kelsey


	9. All the Wrong Words

Okay. I've definitely had this chapter done since Thursday. My birthday was Friday and I planned on uploading this then to give ya'll _something _(haha) but I went to DC for the weekend. I'm actually on the bus on the way to Philly now, so I'm taking advantage of their wifi to put this up. It's pissing me off though because I've had to type the author's note freaking TWICE since both times I tried to save I had to reconnect to the internet. I was like "...I'm fucking done." Lol.

Well. Thank you to missingthepoint, Denise, and MissG2020 for the reviews! They make me happy. I love you long time. :P

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks

* * *

All the Wrong Words

He hadn't expected it to be too easy…but he really hadn't been expecting _this_.

"You a cop?"

"What?" Caesar quickly spun around, thinking that maybe the boy was talking to someone who had come up behind him. When he was greeted by nothing more than an empty driveway and some chirping birds he slowly turned back around, his eyebrows raised.

"…No?" Caesar couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Idiot, we go to the same school."

The boy, a fellow senior at Ed Wuncler Senior who people called "Rice", had stringy blond hair, misty blue eyes, and a pale complexion that was practically _begging _for sunlight. He was constantly sleeping in class, constantly staring into space, and constantly making outlandish statements that made people give him looks of disbelief. That was, of course, whenever he chose to stop dozing off long enough to talk.

In other words, he was forever strung out.

Rice cracked the door open a millimeter further, but no more.

"I don' know, man." His speech was slurred and he blinked drowsily. Never mind that it was only seven thirty. "You ain't never been round here before."

"Well…" Caesar plucked out one of his earphones, shrugging and digging his hands in his pockets. "I be busy. Doing-"

"-the music thing." Rice nodded. "Word." His eyes swept over Caesar and he gave a nod of approval. "I be diggin' yo shit man, for real."

"Uh…thanks." The dreadhead sighed, casting another look over his shoulder. "So, you gonna let me in this piece or what?"

For a moment Rice merely blinked at him, making him think that maybe he hadn't been heard. But then he was stepping back, opening the door wide enough for him to slink in.

"Well come on, then."

Caesar nodded, stepping into the doorway and dropping his backpack on the floor as Rice closed the door, dead bolting it. His eyes narrowed towards the book bag.

"Open your bag."

Caesar's eyebrows rose. "Excuse me?"

"I said open your bag." Rice gave him a nervous look. "You could be working for somebody."

"Oh, my-" Caesar shut his mouth, sighing and bending down to unzip the bag. He saw Rice staring over his shoulder. Rolling his eyes he yanked the thing wide open, holding it up and presenting it to the skeptic pothead.

"Satisfied?"

Rice took the backpack from him, sifting through the schoolbooks and even checking the smaller compartments. After a few moments of thorough investigating he zipped the bag shut again, dropping it to the floor. Caesar shot him a dirty look.

"Right." He turned on his heel, heading down the hallway and disappearing through a doorway. "Wait right there."

Caesar shrugged, rolling his eyes again. "Whatever." He stuck his other earphone back into his ear and pressed _play _on his iPod, bobbing his head and examining his surroundings as he did so.

_'__As we dwell through this concrete hell, calling it home  
Mama say, take your time young man and build your own  
Don't wind up like your old dad  
Still searching for them glory days he never had  
So many bad want to scheme for American dream, no more kings  
The cash rule everything now, we going down.'_

The house, no, more like the _mansion_, had high ceilings and tall windows that were covered with ruby red curtains. Out one that happened to be opened he could see the stretch of sunset that sprawled behind the other large manors of the neighborhood. He saw a couple walk by on the sidewalk, a dog on a leash leading them.

It was funny how the easiest place to find weed wasn't in the lower class neighborhoods that surrounded Woodcrest, but instead in the hearts of the neighborhoods where the richest and most powerful lived. As much of a burnout as Rice was his parents were both researchers; his mother was forever traveling to foreign countries to give seminars and his father was forever traveling in general with, as rumors had it, his female assistant.

For Rice to have to spend all his time in a big house like this alone…no wonder the boy was so into the Cannabis.

It was funny how people could have so much and not know what to do with it, yet people who barely had anything had to struggle just to stay afloat. Caesar really couldn't stand Rice; it wasn't the fact that he was a pothead that bothered him. Hell, he didn't give a shit about who smoked and who didn't. All he knew was that he'd seen too many people fail in life just because they didn't have the resources to make it and Rice had it all, but he choose to just slouch around like he had no future. Unfortunately, he was more likely to have a future than _Caesar _was.

Won't _that _a bitch.

_'These babies looking up to us, it's up to us  
The Million Man March MC's, get on the bus  
But envy, greed, lust, and hate, separate  
Though the devil mind state blood kin cannot relate  
No longer, brothers, we unstable  
Like Kane when he slew Abel, killing each other.'_

"Alright." Rice shuffled back into the room, holding two bags; Caesar quickly paused the music, removing both earphones and letting them hang around his neck. "Here's the deal."

Caesar lifted his chin, his eyes never leaving the bags in the white boy's hands. Said white boy lifted his left hand, which held a smaller bag filled with what looked like grass.

It was grass, alright.

"This," Rice said sleepily, "is a twenty sack. Now, twenty sacks-"

"I'm not stupid," Caesar interrupted, annoyed. Forget sucking up, he didn't have time for that. "Weed's measured in grams. There's eighths, ounces, quarter pounds...I'm not retarded. I know how to measure it already so just _sell _it to me-"

"Charles said you was cool peoples." Rice blinked at him. "Why you gotta be like that?"

"Because I'm in a _hurry_."

"Well you're gonna have to wait anyway." When Caesar gave him a confused look he rolled his eyes. "And you the one who claimed to know so much. You can't just roll up in here and roll back out after a few minutes, _especially _if you gonna keep buyin' from me. Otherwise one of these nosy ass neighbors is gonna get suspicious and start callin' cops an shit…you gotta stay for at least half an hour."

_Duh_. He hadn't thought about that. Rice tipped his head from the side.

"You ain't gonna deal it from your house is you? Cause I mean-"

"_No_," Caesar snapped, feeling the same annoyed twinge he got anytime someone mentioned him and "dealing" in the same sentence. It hadn't happened much since the only people who knew were Rice, Charles, the boy in his economics class who had set him up with Rice in the first place, and himself. Rice sucked his teeth, snorting.

"What, from your _bike_?"

"From my _car_, you asshole." He rolled his eyes. "Does it matter?"

"Hell _yeah _that shit matters," Rice snapped, his voice holding actual feeling in it the first time since Caesar had known of him. "Because if your ass gets busted, it won't be long before they bust me." He shook his head. "This town's full of snitches."

Well, they could agree on _that _one.

"I ain't gonna get caught." Caesar shook his head. "I got this."

Rice surveyed him with another look before nodding and holding out his hand.

"Got the money?"

Caesar nodded, digging in his pocket and withdrawing a stack of bills, which he slapped into Rice's moist palm before he could change his mind. That was, essentially, all he had. This thing better have been worth it.

"I usually don't do the supplier thing," he said offhandedly, counting through the bills. "But I got a good feeling about you." He lifted his eyes, sticking the money in his back pocket and handing Caesar a filled bag. He turned it over in his hands, studying it. "You'll be alright."

The marijuana felt as if it were weighing down his hands. What about this stuff made people go so crazy over it? He'd tried it, he wasn't gonna lie; he visited his family full of Jamaicans in _Brooklyn_, for crying out loud. It hadn't even done much for him. He knew for some people this was all they lived for. Was it really worth it?

Well. Their weaknesses would soon be his strengths.

He'd do this just enough to get him and his mom out the poorhouse. Until she found a job. Until collectors stopped practically banging down their doors.

"That's White widow right there. Good shit." Rice clapped him on the shoulder, turning on his heel and starting down the hallway again. "Don't screw it up."

How could he possibly screw up _weed_? "Yeah…okay." He dropped it in his backpack, zipping it up and throwing it over his shoulders. Rice waved his hand.

"The door locks automatically. Just pull it."

"Alright." Caesar head for the front door, glancing over his shoulder. "I'll be back in a few days."

"A few days?" Rice's eyebrow rose, his tone filled with doubt. "You gonna sell all that in a few _days_?" He shook his head. "I could see a week, _maybe_. But three days?"

Caesar opened the door, smirking.

"I'll be back in a few days," he repeated, and with that he let the door slam shut behind him. He put his earphones in and started the music again as he walked down the long, winding driveway, sighing.

_'You can't party your life away  
Drink your life away  
Smoke your life away  
Fuck your life away  
Dream your life away  
Scheme your life away  
Cause your seeds grow up the same way.'_

The faster he got the money he needed, the faster he could get this entire thing over with. He'd still look for a real job, still find other means to come up with the money.

But for now, this was his only shot. For now, this was all he had.

And he couldn't screw it up.

* * *

At this point, she had quite a few options.

She could take the traditional mad black female route and yell. All she'd have to do was dial his number and then she could let him have an earful, knowing even as she did so that there was nothing she could do to hurt his feelings as much as he did hers. The gratification from being able to unleash her pent in anger would be enough to make that fact not matter.

Then again, she could take the typical Jazmine approach and cry. Really though, she'd done that so much in the past few days that she just didn't feel up to doing it again.

She could play passive aggressive. She could play _aggressive _aggressive. She could track him down like some angry mother whose child had snuck out the house…

Or…she could wait.

Jazmine stared up through the tree branches, her palms resting on her stomach and her legs parallel against the thick trunk. She moved her feet from side to side, examining her shoes. The hill around her was quiet, the wind softly moving through the trees and causing the branches to sway in some dance. She sighed, closing her eyes.

She knew that she should feel angry, but she didn't. She knew that she should've been upset, enraged, hurt, _something _by the fact that she'd basically been stood up…but she couldn't find it in herself to feel anything. Was that normal? Was that _good_? She knew that Huey, _everyone,_ was forever telling her that she was too sensitive, too emotional…was it really better to be _nothing_?

She had to admit, being able to sit there and neatly sort out her thoughts as opposed to choking on her own tears was a plus. She exhaled heavily, trying to ease the tightness that had formed in her chest. Apparently, her body was finding _some _way to feel pain being that her tear ducts were so dry.

Her ears picked up on the sound of someone coming up the hill and she kept her eyes shut, not even bothering to turn her head towards the source. She merely focused on each and every breath, making sure that they were all the same length, the same depth. Making sure that she wouldn't give away how completely, horribly lost she was.

"I'm sorry."

Jazmine felt her shoulders rise and slump again, an indifferent motion that she barely thought about. She heard him sigh and flop down beside her, imagining him leaning against the tree, probably staring at any focal point that wasn't her.

"I really am."

She didn't say anything. Really, what _could _she say that he didn't already know? He was in the wrong. She knew, he knew, they knew. So _what_? Since when did knowing so freaking much help anyone? All it did was turn worlds upside down; it made her wonder if she'd been wrong to think there was such a thing as happily ever after in the first place. All those times she'd stood up for the power of love, all of the wishing and yearning for true love…and for what? So that one day it could end in divorce when her significant other suddenly decided she wasn't good enough and went for his secretary or something?

Was it really this easy to become so jaded over someone else's mistakes?

"I just got caught up with something else." Jazmine could tell that the fact that she hadn't yet spoken, hadn't even let on to the fact that she was even aware he was _there_, was getting to him. He was hard to read but every once in awhile she got small glimpses of the him that wasn't typically in the open, such as the way that someone's silence could mean much more than any words they ever spoke to him. How he had quiet ways of displaying how he cared about someone, such as stealing Riley's stolen Lakers jersey back from the quarterback of the football team and mumbling "I was just getting sick of hearing him whine about it" to justify his reasoning, or randomly tossing Maya a bag of her favorite Sun Chips, her obsession, throughout the school week "to maybe keep her from being as much of a raging psychopath". How the usual coldness behind his eyes could give way whenever they managed to catch a glimpse of each other; how even when they were ten and he could barely tolerate her he'd practically been able to see into her soul with them. She heard him sigh again. "I didn't forget."

Jazmine shifted, dropping a foot but keeping her other leg still against the tree.

"Of course you didn't." She felt his eyes narrow but didn't bother to return the glare. Instead she focused on the back of her eyelids, evening sun turning them a blood orange.

"I wanted to come, but-"

"You didn't." She was finally finding her voice, even if the words were harder to come by. There was a pause.

"What?"

"If you wanted to come then you would've. But you didn't." She licked her lips; they were dry. "Actions speak louder than words. Don't you always tell me that?"

Her voice was quiet, so soft that she was surprised the wind didn't carry it off to let deafness fall over both of them. She heard Huey snort.

"_Now _you want to listen to what I say," he said dryly. She finally opened her eyes, shooting him a look.

"I _always _listen." She shook her head, staring back into the tree branches. The funny part was that she _still _couldn't feel anything. It was beginning to worry her. She let the fingers of her left hand tap against her right wrist, making sure that this wasn't some alternate reality. She sat up, crossing her legs and glancing at her phone. It was almost eight.

Had she really been out there for nearly three hours?

"Okay, look." Huey was talking in his diplomatic voice, the one he used to stop arguments or conflicts before they even thought about starting. "I got held up by-"

"It's okay." Jazmine picked at a blade of grass, rubbing it between her fingers. "Really."

"Jazmine-"

"I _said_," she snapped, anger _finally _bothering to show up, "that it's okay."

"Oh, yeah." Huey rolled his eyes. "You sound _perfectly _fine."

"Because the more you go on about it the less okay I _get_," she shot back, glancing at him over her shoulder. "How do you _want _me to sound?" When he didn't say anything she sighed, staring at her shoe.

Under normal circumstances she would've been shouting by now, no doubt. Why didn't she feel like just letting her emotions break like a damn? How come she just felt like…

_'Does it even matter anymore_?'

"What?"

Jazmine didn't even realize until she saw Huey giving her an incredulous look that she'd spoken her thoughts aloud. She sat up straighter, her eyes landing on the tree roots.

People got together, they fell in love, and then they fucked it up. She'd seen the cycle first hand now. Was there any point in waiting around for the same fate to fall over them? It would. There was no avoiding it. Especially with the fact that he'd much rather break a promise than to be seen in public with her. She was sure he had a reason, she was sure it wasn't that big a deal…but did it matter anymore?

Did _anything _matter at this point?

Jazmine lifted her gaze again, looking at Huey. He was staring back, waiting for her words, her judgment. They'd been down this road before; Jazmine did something wrong and he'd call her out for it. He made a mistake and she'd lash out. Then they'd simply watch each other, examine the other's movements. Try to figure out what they were thinking. Only now Jazmine wasn't worried about his thoughts. She was concerned about her _own_.

She shivered and it had nothing to do with the cold. Tears finally, _finally _began to fill her eyes, and it didn't have anything to do with him or them or _now_. It just happened because in the wake of everything, what else was there to do?

She needed to walk. She needed to go somewhere away from home, away from the hill, away from anyone she knew. She really didn't know _what _she needed, but she knew what she wanted. She wanted for someone to just look at her and realize that she wasn't just some bookworm with a sweet disposition and wealthy parents. She wanted for someone to just take a glance at her and hug her. She wanted them to tell her she'd be okay, even if it might not be true. Even if everything was going to complete shit.

"Jazmine."

_'Yield to all and you will soon have nothing to yield.'_

The line seemed to pop into her mind out of nowhere. It wasn't difficult to know where it came from; it was out of one of her favorite fables, _the Man and His Two Wives. _Fables had been her favorite type of story for ages. She could find a book of them and read them for hours, being fascinated by how wise the talking animals were and how much she could learn from the morals of the story.

This one fable in particular, however, had always stuck with her, and it had been because of that one line. Her eight year old self had thought nothing of it, just knowing that it sounded pretty to her, its meaning having no value to her. Now though, her seventeen year old self was getting some time to reflect on it.

Maybe, just maybe…there was some truth to it.

It may have sounded ridiculous, but sometimes she felt as if she was only there to be a solace for others. Out of her closest friends it was her that everyone called late into the night about their problems. She was the individual that a stranger would walk up to and suddenly begin to spout off their deepest secrets. She knew enough about the students of her high school, as well as the rest of the town, to cause complete chaos if she desired so.

Of course, she'd never do it. Her downfall was that she was loyal. Her weakness was that she was easy to trust.

And her problem was that she was just too, too damn naïve. That was why she didn't know how to handle negative situations. It was why she got so conflicted, so down. It was draining, being the outlet for so many when she didn't have anyone to go to herself. Sure there was her best friend, but she was so on-the-go or wrapped up in her own things that she didn't bother bugging her. Her parents hadn't ever been home and now if they were she was barely ever in the same room as them. There were others, but all they did was tell her she was being too sensitive, too soft. They made her feel like her problems weren't worth mentioning.

So, she'd stopped trying all together. If she ever wanted comfort she had to find it in herself while giving it to others. And _she_ had to be the person to glance at someone, throw her arms around them, and tell them they'd be okay.

"I don't wanna do it anymore."

She watched Huey blink, analyzing her words and never taking his eyes off her.

"You don't want to do…" He was waiting for her to finish the sentence, something that he flat out refused to do for other people. The fact that he expected her to do something he never willingly did was a bit hypocritical but she ignored it, taking a deep breath instead.

"I don't want to hide it anymore." She drew her knees to her chest, hugging them and staring at the ground. "I'm so tired of keeping secrets."

She closed her eyes again, the air around her seeming to grow hot, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest as she waited for him to either shoot her down or lift her up. Instead, he did neither.

"Yeah." When she heard the sarcastic tone that she held she lifted her head, opening her eyes again. "Because I'm sure you have so many to keep track of."

Any other day, any other time, any other _moment _would have been a better time to say that. But not that one. Unfortunately, it was the moment he picked. And, unfortunately, Jazmine was _not _the one. She felt the chain of her usually mild temper break clean apart, her eyes narrowing.

"You don't know a _thing _about the things I have to keep to myself," she snapped, her voice wavering. He blinked at her. "So don't sit there and act like you do."

"It's not that you _don't_," he replied evenly, his own eyes narrowed. "It's just that you're not the first person in the world who's had to do so. It's not the end of the world."

Holy _shit_. For someone who always knew the right words to say he sure was speaking all the wrong ones. For a second she could only stare at him, her eyes filled with disbelief. How could someone so good at seeing how people really were be so _blind_?

Even worse, why had she expected him to be anything else? She shook her head, pushing herself to her feet and giving him one last glare before stomping downhill, her fists clenched at her sides. Behind her she heard him sigh.

"I really _don't _feel like chasing you."

She whirled around, the orange sun behind him casting him in an almost angelic glow. Despite his dark outlook on life she the sun always reminded her of him; it was the same sun they'd spent nearly the entire summer under, time seeming to stretch endlessly. Of course, all good things came to an end. All of them.

Did she really want to wait around for the inevitable?

She gave him a look, her irises hardening.

"Good. Because I don't want you to." She took a deep breath, shaking her head. "Since we're so good at pretending to hate each other in public, let's just stop pretending." She saw him blink, his eyes filled with unconcealed surprise. She was a bit surprised at herself but she couldn't stop. "have a feeling it won't be too hard for me to do." She took a step back, shaking her head and turning away.

She didn't wait for a response, didn't wait to hear what he'd say. Instead she continued down the hill, leaving him behind.

'_Don't look back. Don't look back.'_

They would've never made it. If her own parents couldn't do it, how would they have managed to? She was doing him a favor. She was doing _them _a favor.

Still, telling herself that didn't make the finally emerging pain any better. As she walked she crossed her arms over her chest, which seemed to be tightening all over again. She took a deep breath.

She needed to get out. She needed to get away from…_everything._ Even if it was for a minute. Even if for a _second_.

That was why instead of walking up her driveway when she reached it she continued down the sidewalk, redirecting her destination to the house of Dory Chandler, the tears finally beginning to stream down her cheeks and continuing to do so the entire way there.

* * *

If it weren't for Huey Freeman and Hiro Otomo, she'd be a lot more insane than she already was.

While he managed to annoy the shit out of her (really, who _didn't_?), Huey was probably the closest to her similarity wise. She could string together a succession of vague statements and he could catch on to whatever she was thinking, word for word. He didn't have enough money for martial arts lessons, neither of them did, so they usually practiced on each other. They were both so attuned to how the other person thought that their matches always ended in a draw. Always. Out of the circles of people she was usually in he was most likely one of the ones she talked to less, but somehow…he just _got _her.

And then there was her best friend Hiro, who she'd practically joined herself at the hip to when she'd moved to Woodcrest at the age of twelve. Her reputation as a troublemaker had preceded her so she'd had to deal with the not-so-subtle looks, the whispers and hisses that seemed to follow her everywhere.

Oh. To top it all off, she'd seemed to be the only girl who, at the time, had braces.

_God_.

So she'd sat to the back of her first class, the one that he'd also happened to be in, only for him to come in a few minutes later and tell her that she was in his seat.

"_So_?" she'd spat flippantly, waving her hand and rolling her eyes. He'd rolled his own eyes.

"So, you'd better move."

She'd been stunned. Not because she was afraid, no; she could beat that little pipsqueak into next millennium. She'd been stunned because he was the first person she'd met who didn't treat her like a ticking time bomb. He'd treated her like anyone else.

That was the only reason she'd moved. That was probably the only person she'd _ever _moved for at any point in her life. And when he'd asked her to sit with him at lunch she'd said yes without hesitation. They'd been inseparable ever since. The beauty about their friendship was that neither one of them had to change anything about themselves, despite being so different. Yet somehow they were still there to rely and support each other.

At least…she'd thought so.

"Hiro?" Maya couldn't help but shoot him a concerned look from her spot on the couch; he was on the opposite end of the basement, scribbling furiously in a notebook, his eyes narrowed in concentration. He glanced up, a strand of jet black hair falling into his eyes.

"Sup?"

_'What _is _up_?' Maya wanted to ask, but she bit her tongue. For him, and for only him would she do that. And it was only because he looked so…beaten.

She'd ignored it, of course. She ignored most her issues until they were building up, reaching higher and higher until they were sure to topple over and crush her underneath their weight. She had pretended not to notice the weight he'd seemed to be losing; he'd never been too big to start out with anyways. She didn't pay attention to the permanent circles around his eyes, the faraway look that his irises sometimes held. She knew that he had issues with his parents. He _always _had issues with his parents, as long as she remembered. But somehow, it seemed like more than that.

Hiro had a tendency to get down a lot easier than most people. She hoped that it wasn't too serious this time…

"Nothing." She looked away, tapping her fingers on her knees and glancing up as she heard too familiar footsteps on the top of the basement stairs.

"Maya!" Kat's loud shout caused her to grit her teeth, Hiro glancing up as well as the younger girl thundered down the steps. The older sister sighed.

"Huh."

"Maya." Kat stopped at the foot of the steps, grinning. Maya gave her a look.

"_What?_"

"_Maya_." Kat offered her a huge smile. All Maya wanted to do was smack it off her face.

"Karinne, what the hell do you want?" Maya glared at her; she had her hands in the pockets of her jeans. She took one of them out long enough to tuck her hair behind her ears.

"What you doin'?

She rolled her eyes. "What does it _look _like I'm doing?"

The younger sister frowned. "I just wanted to say hi."

"Well, say hi then." Honestly. Why couldn't Kat just _grow up_? If she was such a freaking certified genius then she should've known when not to act like a brat. She watched Kat turn towards Hiro, giving him another one of her sunny smiles and a wave.

"Hi, Hiro!"

"Hey, Kat." He offered her a smile before glancing towards Maya. "Hey, is it alright if I crash here tonight?"

"Whatever." Maya shrugged. Kat stood on her tiptoes, her hands behind her back.

"Watchu doin, Hiro?"

"Minding his own freaking business, Kat." Her smile vanished. "Don't you have some friends your _own _age to go bug?" Maya rolled her eyes again, annoyed. "_God_, can I do _one thing _that doesn't involve your little ass?"

Kat's frown deepened. "I was trying to be nice and give you company-"

"Well, don't." Maya shook her head, massaging her temples and just wanting for her to go away so that she could try to "reach" her best friend. She was really worried about him. "The last thing I need are your pathetic favors." She mentally groaned when Kat stomped her foot, her gray eyes narrowing. Hiro sighed, shutting his notebook and shaking his head. They both knew too well where this was going.

"You never wanna be bothered with anybody! What the fuck is your problem?"

Maya groaned, throwing out her hands.

"It's you!" she snapped. "It's you and your annoying ass always being under me like a freaking dog!" Once she got going she just couldn't _stop_._ "_Mind your own business! Get your own life! Stay out of _mine_!"

"Last time I checked, you didn't _have _a life!" Kat shot back, her hands on her hips. Maya glared. "Maybe that's your problem! Maybe if you stopped having an attitude all the time people would like you better!"

"You guys-" Hiro started, but then Maya was sitting up, her fists clenched.

"Maybe if I didn't have to live in a house where you can't _breathe _too loud without making people cry I wouldn't have one so damn much!"

"_Really_?" Kat's eyes narrowed. "_That's _what you're mad about?" She gave her sister a look of disbelief. "You're mad because mom and I are _sad_?"

"No!" Maya stomped her foot. "What the hell does that have to _do _with anything-"

"It has everything to do with this!" Kat shouted. Hiro was staring between the both of them now, his chin in his hand and his expression thoughtful. "How are mom and I supposed to know how to deal with you if you never tell us what's bothering you?"

_Deal with you. _As if she were some chore. Was she for real? Maya sighed, covering her eyes with her hand.

"Please don't do this right now." She nodded towards Hiro. "Can't we talk about this-"

"No, because you'll run off to god-knows-where and just ignore the entire thing!"

"If you ain't noticed, all we _do _around here is ignore every fucking thing!" Maya snapped, dropping her hand and giving her sister a look of disgust. "Fine. _Fine. _You wanna know why I'm always so pissed?" When no one bothered to say anything she rose to her feet, pointing to the ceiling. "I'm mad because I'm the only one trying to get on with my life and you two make me out to be a bad person for being that way!"

Kat paused. She shook her head, tears in her eyes.

"You're so selfish." Maya's eyes narrowed. "You're full of crap. All you think about is yourself! You just play that "moving on" card when really what you want is to get rid of everything that had to do with him-"

"How the hell do you figure that?" Maya shook her head. "That's not what I'm doing! I just didn't sign up to give away my own life when he decided to take his own! It doesn't _work _that way, Kat!" The younger girl's eyes spilled over. "I'm not going to stop living my life because he decided to stop living his."

Kat's eyes narrowed, her fists clenched.

"Just because," she said in a surprisingly low voice. "You don't remember when _your _dad left-" Maya's eyes narrowed as well. "Doesn't mean you can just stop me from missing _mine_."

"Oh, no." Hiro stiffened, shaking his head. Maya exhaled heavily through her nose, shaking her head.

"Don't even _go _there." She held a warning tone in her voice. "Don't you _dare _bring that into this."

"I _have _to." Kat sniffed, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve before raising her chin. "I have to because when it comes down to it, that's what this has always been about. Our dads." She took a deep breath, not noticing the vein that poked out on the side of Maya's neck. Hiro gave her a warning look.

"Maya." His voice was calm. "Look, don't worry-"

"Shut up." Maya held up a hand towards him, taking a step towards her sister with hard eyes. "Let her finish. She knows she wants to. She just wants to _push _me."

"I want you to understand how we feel, but you never try!" Kat finally burst out, throwing up her hands. "And you act like it's _my _fault! You act like it's _my fault _that my dad was always there for me, even there for _you_, and your dad didn't even want to admit you _existed-"_

_SLAM._

Kat let out a shriek as Hiro jumped off the couch; Maya had grabbed her, shoving her back against the dry wall behind them. She closed her eyes as the older girl pulled back her fist…

_CRASH._

The girl cracked an eye open, slowly turning her head to see the hole that was now in the wall, inches from her head. She swallowed, slowly turning to look back to Maya, who was still holding her collar with her other hand. She was shaking her free hand, angry red blotches already covering her knuckles. Her eyes never left her sister's.

She'd never straight hit her…but she really, _really _wanted to. She let go of the girl's collar in one fluid motion, turning around and storming for the back door. Hiro stood motionless in his spot, Kat slowly straightening.

"Where are you going?" she asked softly. Maya yanked the door open, shooting the girl a dark look that made her shrink back against the wall.

"Don't fucking worry about it." She shook her head, closing her eyes. "Since you think it's so goddamn _funny _that my dad doesn't give a rat's ass about me you just go ahead and forget I exist, too." She snorted, stepping outside. "Sometimes you people make me wish I _didn't_."

She slammed the door, storming into the darkness with no real destination, no real agenda, just knowing that she couldn't stand to be around anyone at that point.

Sticks and stones could break her bones, but words could never hurt her…

…Except for the ones who came from the little sister who she couldn't help but resent more with every passing day. The little sister who, as bitchy as she could be, didn't deserve it.

The little sister who knew that her big sister hated her…but didn't know how much she hated herself for doing so.

* * *

Cindy was just rummaging through the Dubois' kitchen cabinets, trying to find _something _healthy yet tasty (a hard combination to come by) to eat when the doorbell rang. She let the cabinet she was peeking in swing shut, sighing and blowing a strand of hair out her face. She peeked at the clock, ten fifteen, before shuffling to the front door and pulling it open. She made a face, stepping aside as Huey literally invited himself in as if he owned the place. Cindy put a hand on her hip, her eyes narrowing.

"Excuse me."

"You're excused." When Cindy shot him a dirty look he rolled his eyes, holding up a bright pink blackberry. "I thought she would've noticed she left it by now."

"Left it…wait, she's not _with _you?" Cindy snapped, giving him a disbelieving look. "What the hell, man?"

"_What_?" he snapped, going into the kitchen and dropping the phone on the kitchen table. "She's not here either?"

"Uh, _no_?" Cindy rolled her eyes. "She's supposed to be with you…" Realization dawning on her she sighed, shaking her head. "Emphasis on "supposed to be"-"

"Yeah…well, she's not." Huey shook his head when Cindy shot him a dangerous look. "Don't look at me like that."

"I'll look at you however I freaking _want_." Cindy took a step towards him. "You managed to, even after I warned you _not _to, fuck up. Didn't you?"

Huey sighed, lifting his eyes heavenward. "Maybe."

"Are you _serious_?" Cindy threw up her hands. "Damn it! She's probably crying her eyes out at Burrito Bob's right now…way to _go_, jackass!" She groaned, spinning on her heel and stalking down the hallway. "And she doesn't even have her phone on her…how hard was she crying?" she suddenly asked, turning back around. Huey made a face.

"About that…" Cindy blinked. "She didn't cry."

The blonde's eyes widened. Somehow, her _not _crying was worse than her actual waterworks. "…What?"

"She didn't cry." Huey shrugged, leaning against the wall and staring at the floor. "She didn't cry when I came to apologize, she didn't cry when she essentially broke up with me-"

"_What_?" Cindy's eyes nearly bulged out her head. "She _dumped _you?"

"Yes. Thank you." He rolled his eyes, shooting her a dark look as she stomped past him, going out the still open front door. He followed her. "I love your enthusiasm about that-"

"Enthusiasm my _ass_!" Cindy tossed him a dirty look over her shoulder. "I know _you _don't care about her but she's my best friend!"

"Oh, of course not." His voice was dry. "I cared so little about her that I dated her for nearly seven months and put up with _your _bullshit." He shook his head. "I'm just trying to understand _why _she did it. She didn't even seem mad about the entire me-being-three-hours-late thing…it's _weird_."

Cindy had to admit she _did _feel a little bad. Huey _was _a bit less grumpy with Jazmine around, despite his reluctance to admit it. From what she'd known they'd gotten along great, subtract the entire dating in secret thing, but even that hadn't been something that seemed like a make-or-break situation. And the fact that Huey was even bothering to try and think of where she could be showed that he at least _gave _a shit about her. Cindy swallowed, trying to think.

"Maybe she's at the park…"

"I checked there."

Cindy's eyebrows rose. "Well…maybe she's at the ice cream-"

"I checked there, too."

"Well damn, Freeman, where _didn't _you check?" When he merely shrugged in response she waved her hand, turning towards the house again. "Just go somewhere. I'll find her. This ain't a big town-"

"When you do," Huey asked quietly, making her pause in surprise. He didn't sound angry or indifferent. He seemed genuinely concerned. "Could you tell her to call me?"

Cindy gave him a look. In response he put on his traditional scowl. _Now _they were back to normal.

"Just do it."

She blinked, pressing her lips together. She nodded, making her way back into the house and closing the door. She rubbed her forehead, thinking.

Jazmine had dumped Huey. She didn't have her phone on her. Jazmine had dumped _Huey_. She didn't _cry _about said dumping…and, once again, _Jazmine _had dumped him. Not the other way around. Not even mutually. But _she'd _done it.

What could have made her do that? She paced the kitchen, her fingers on her chin. She tried to think of the conversations they'd had since school started; there hadn't been many. The few that they _had _had Jazmine seemed sadder than usual, but she never mentioned wanting to break up with him. Last time she'd checked, she'd been considering trying to convince him to go _public. _That didn't seem like someone who wanted to dump the person she wanted to go public _with._

What had changed her mind? Even worse…how could she not know what was going on with her supposed-best friend?

"Some best friend I am," Cindy grumbled, flinging herself into the nearest chair. She glanced towards the center of the table where she'd tossed a bag of potato chips and rolled her eyes, flinging it so that it fell onto the floor and slid into the corner near the pantry. She sighed.

She'd talk to Jazmine when she got home. She'd see what was going on. And, as much as she couldn't stand him…she'd convince her to call Huey. It wasn't because she wanted to.

It was because she got the feeling that he cared a lot more about her than she'd thought.

* * *

"I'm glad you stopped all dat cryin' shit." Riley shook his head, giving Jazmine a sidelong glance as they walked up the wide, circular driveway of a lit up house on the outskirts of town. "I ain' have no time fo dat."

"Well." Jazmine sighed, her eyes still red rimmed, although her voice sounded even enough. "No one told you to follow me."

"Cuz! You was lookin' like a _zombie_." Riley made a face. "I was like _dayum_! Jazzy lookin' like she got beat up by-"

"I am _so glad_-" Jazmine suddenly snapped, making him clamp his mouth shut, "that I look like I've been run over. Thank you. _Thank you_, Riley." She shook her head, waving her hands at him. "You know what? Go away." She turned around, marching further up the driveway. "I don't have time for this..."

The truth was she wasn't on any schedule being that she'd been wandering aimlessly around the richer part of town being that she didn't have Dory's address. She'd wound up bumping into Riley, who'd had his bag of spray paints handy and his classic "I-don't-give-a-damn" expression on his face...at least until he'd seen her crying her eyes out. He'd been following her ever since.

She wasn't sure if she was happy for the company or if she were getting so accustomed to this lonely thing that she just wanted him to carry his ass.

"Aiight, aiight!" He watched her stop, rolling his eyes. "I walked you up hurr cause you ain' lookin like yoself." She slowly turned around, looking at him with unreadable eyes. "An…you's my friend. An I don' kno wat it is goin on, but…" He shrugged. "It's gon be okay."

Jazmine blinked at him, her eyes widening. His own eyes narrowed.

"Wat is yo-"

"Oh, my god." Before he knew what was happening Jazmine was running towards him, throwing her arms around his waist and squeezing him so hard he had to fight the urge to upchuck. His initial instinct was to fling her the fuck off but instead he found himself awkwardly patting her back as she looked up at him, her face once again tear streaked.

"Thank you. Thank you so much." Riley blinked, confused. "You don't know how bad I…how badly I needed to hear…" She suddenly stopped, dissolving into tears all over again and burying her face in his chest. He sighed, giving up hope on being let go soon and reluctantly wrapping an arm around her.

"Whateva. You gon be good." He shook his head, staring towards the house. There were a good twenty parked cars all along the property, a few white people gathered on the front porch. They were so into their own thing that at least they hadn't noticed the crazed girl and her nigga friend near the bottom of the driveway. His eyebrows drew together. "Wat we here for again?"

"A party." Jazmine finally managed to regain her composure, sniffing and wiping her nose. She wiped at her cheeks next. "I don't know, I just didn't want to go home."

"Word?" Riley nodded. "Dey got dranks up in there?"

"It's a non chaperoned high school house party in a rich neighborhood. In the _suburbs._" Jazmine shrugged, sniffing again. "What do _you _think?"

"I think-" Riley said, taking her shoulders and steering her up the driveway. "Dat we need ta get in there an get yo ass cheered up real quick."

"You just wanna drink."

"An I don' mind admittin' dat." Jazmine shook him off, falling in step beside him. "Plus, no offense, but you lookin' like you could use sum Grey Goose yo damn self."

Jazmine nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. "I probably could," she mumbled quietly. She hadn't had an alcoholic beverage in her life but really, how rough could it possibly be? Riley cackled, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

"Hell _yea_." He nodded. "We bout ta do dis shit." There was a pause, and then Jazmine was slowly smiling up at him.

"Okay." They both looked forward again, the house coming closer and closer. "Let's do it."

* * *

ARGH I HATE WHEN I FORGET TO CREDIT SONGS. GODDAMNIT AHHHHHH! Okay. *breathes* ANYWAYS, the song that Hayley "wrote" last chapter was "The Rain Don't Last" by Hope. And the song in THIS chapter happens to be one of my favorite Wu-Tang Clan songs, "A Better Tomorrow". So, yeah.

Someone actually messaged me asking if there's gonna be a sequel to this ALREADY. Holy cow. I can tell you upfront that this is one of the few stories I'm writing that _won't _have a sequel. Some of them just don't need one. This is one of those. But this one isn't gonna be a shortie by any means (I don't think) so you'll be okay :P

Thanks for reading! And, as usual, please review!

...DO IT DARN IT. ;)

-Kelsey


	10. Beginnings and Ends

As you can see, this is one of the chapters that I already had done. The next one isn't though, so don't get your hopes up. Lol.

Thanks to MissG2020 and Denise for the reviews. Short note, right? What's WRONG with me?

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks

* * *

Beginnings and Ends

One thing about having a reputation as the badass from Detroit was that people were always trying to challenge her.

...And everyone wondered why she was so _angry _all the time.

For the life of her, Maya really _did _try to stay out of most the trouble she got into (alright, some if it was intentional). But then the wrong bitch had to come around, running her (and even in some cases, _his_) mouth or swinging off. And then she had to teach the idiot a lesson, which was _I am not the one_.

So, as Maya made her way down the empty street, earphones on and phone off (so everyone could leave her the hell alone) as she tried to calm down, she didn't notice the car that was slowly riding up behind her. She also didn't notice as it stopped, three girls hopping out the backseat while one jumped out the front passenger door. By the time she had the instinct to glance over her shoulder the driver had stopped and gotten out the car as well, a baseball bat in her hands. Maya's eyes widened.

She may have been an expert at kickboxing as well as a master at Hapkido…but who the fuck was she kidding? It was five to one.

Oh, _hell _no.

She quickly whirled back around, taking off down the sidewalk, her earphones falling out her ears so that the sounds of Slum Village were quickly replaced by the angry screaming of five teenage girls. She reached a chain length fence, quickly climbing it and leaping over to the other side, never breaking her pace. She was a trackstar, so the chances of them catching her were basically slim to none.

At least they were…until the same car that they'd all gotten out of came to a screeching halt in front of the alleyway she'd been running through, causing her to skid to a stop. She spun around again but two of the girls were already jumping down to the concrete, their shoes making dull thumps as they hit the ground. She straightened, her eyes narrowing.

"Five to one? Really, bitches?" She turned around in a slow circle, giving them all glares. "Even _I _know how to play fair."

"If you're so fucking tough then you should be able to handle untrained, weak girls like us," one of the girls, a black girl who had to be a good six feet tall, spat. Maya fell into a fighting stance, her fists clenched.

They were going to kick her skinny, five foot seven ass into next century. But it wouldn't be the first time she'd lost a fight, nor the last. Besides, this wasn't even a fight; they were straight _ambushing _her.

Never mind, though. Either way she wasn't just gonna take it without giving them _some _kind of hell.

"Bring it then." Maya crooked a finger towards the girl with the bat. "You stupid ass, ugly bitches."

Their eyes all widened. And then they were advancing towards her, all of them rapidly closing her into a circle-

"Maya?"

Maya lifted her head, the girls all spinning around to look towards the street. Cindy, who had been passing by, was giving her a confused look. A basketball was tucked under her arm.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked. Maya threw up her hands, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, you know." Her voice was casual. "Just about to _get my ass handed to me_."

Cindy's eyebrows rose as she gave them all a look. One of the girls stepped forward, her hand on her hip and a scowl on her face.

"Get outta here if you kno wat's good, white girl."

Cindy's eyes widened. Maya shook her head, sighing. Really, couldn't they get this _over _with already? But then, to her complete shock, Cindy was tossing her basketball aside, falling into her own fighting stance and glaring at them.

"Bitch, I will rip the weave out yo hair." A few gasps rang through the air. "Keep fuckin' playin'."

"Ooh, we gotta wigga up ova here!" another one of the girls shouted, causing them all to laugh. Maya felt her face heat up with anger. Cindy's scowl deepened. "You wanna act like you tough? Wat's good then, playa? Wat's really good?"

"Leave her alone, morons!" Maya gave Cindy an incredulous look. "What the hell are you doing? Get _out _of here."

"Betta listen," another one of the girls, a tall lanky girl with a perm and a slow drawl, said. "Don' wanna get hurt."

Cindy surveyed the girls, her face unreadable. Maya couldn't help but hold her breath to see what she'd do. The night air around her, moments ago surging with energy, seemed to be dead and filled with tension, ready to snap. The blonde's eyes locked with Maya's.

And then, to everyone's shock, she was reeling her fist back, punching the girl with the baseball bat square in the face. She stumbled back, the bat clattering to the gravel as the other four reacted, all starting towards her.

"White bitch-"

"Nuh uh uh!" Maya grabbed one of the girls, spinning her around before sending her own fist into her nose. She dropped her collar and shoved her aside as the other three froze, staring between Maya and Cindy. They were obviously torn on what to do, the cries of their fallen comrades drowning out the quiet. And then, one of the girl's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, fuck this shit-"

Before anyone could move the girl was throwing herself at Cindy, tackling her to the ground. Maya started towards her to help but the remaining two blocked her path. She rolled her eyes.

Two on one was a lot easier than five.

"I'm gonna make this quick, okay?" When the girls gave her questioning looks she shrugged, falling into her stance and giving them a "come hither" gesture. One of them, a short girl with a stubby ponytail, clenched her fist and started running towards her, letting out some sort of battle cry. Maya rolled her eyes again, easily blocking her punch and landing her own fist square in the girl's gut. She let out a choked cry, falling to her knees; Maya grabbed her before she could completely slump to the ground, shoving her into her approaching friend so that they both toppled over. She spun around just in time to see the girl she'd punched aiming a kick at her face and stepped back, grabbing her foot and tugging her off her feet. The girl fell on her back and she kicked her aside, glancing over her shoulder towards Cindy. Her eyes widened.

Cindy was managing to fend off the girl's blows…but barely. The black girl, sensing that she had the advantage, grinned.

"Bet you wish you'd stayed in the rich part of town don't cha?"

Maya's eyes narrowed and she jumped over the two girls who were _just _pushing themselves off the ground, running towards them. As Cindy stumbled, lifting her hands to shield her face from the other girl's incoming fist, Maya pounced, ramming into the girl and sending both of them crashing to the ground. The girl groaned and Maya rolled off her, standing up and whirling around-

_CRACK_.

She heard Cindy let out an ear splattering scream that was _nearly _as painful as the baseball bat that struck her in the side of the head, making her falling to her knees. She groaned, wiping the side of her stinging face and glared up at the girl, who was lifting the bat again-

_CRASH._

The girl dropped the bat again, tumbling to the ground herself; Cindy had come up behind her with a metal trashcan. The blonde tossed it aside, glancing over her shoulder at the other four girls, who looked tired and somewhat disoriented. Their eyes widened when Cindy glared at them.

"Get the fuck outta here!" When they didn't move Cindy picked up the bat, waving it in the air. "_GO_!"

They blinked, and then they were hurriedly running for dear life out of the alleyway back into the car, slamming the doors shut and locking them before they even started the engine. The headlights came on, nearly blinding, and the tires squealed against the pavement before the car shot off from the curb, racing down the street. Cindy shook her head as the car whizzed around the corner, the sounds of the engine fading and leaving the street once again in silence. Well, save the fifth girl who had been forgotten by her friends that was still lying on the ground, moaning.

"She was right." Cindy snorted, rolling her eyes. "They _were _weak girls." She peered down to Maya, who was dabbing at the side of her face with her sleeve. "Hey. You okay?"

"Of course." Maya's voice was filled with sarcasm. "The side of my face is just bleeding from getting hit with a fucking _bat_, but I'm spectacular."

"You know what I mean." Cindy extended a hand; Maya looked at it with reluctance. "Besides that."

Maya sighed, finally taking her hand and allowing herself to be pulled to her feet.

"Okay." She blinked, trying to alleviate the pain that seemed to ebb through her temples before giving Cindy a look. She was staring down at the girl, who was pushing herself up to a seated position. When she saw both Cindy and Maya shoot her looks she made a face, rising to her feet and holding up her hands in a surrendering gesture.

"Uh-"

"Fuck _you_, coward," Maya snapped, punching the girl in the face all over again; she hit the ground hard, letting out another groan. "Hitting me with a goddamn bat…I outta cut you."

"Maya." Cindy looked like she was trying not to laugh. Maya blew on her bruised knuckles, turning towards the blonde.

"This shit ain't funny! Shoot."

"My."

"Got me feeling like I got a fucking _concussion_-"

"_My_."

"Got blood on my favorite shirt…I will beat her _ass_-"

"Maya!" Cindy yelled, getting her attention. She shook her head, smiling.

"Thanks for helping me."

Maya gave her a look, her eyebrows lifting. Cindy tucked her hands inside her basketball shorts, shrugging. Maya snorted.

"I wouldn't have _had _to help you if you would've just listened and carried your _ass_." When Cindy's eyes narrowed she sighed, dabbing at the side of her head again. "But what I meant to say is…thanks." She rubbed the back of her neck, wincing; she could feel sticky moisture there as well. "Because if you _hadn't _stuck around, I'd be worse off. And…" She took a deep breath; she wasn't good at this type of thing. "I appreciate it."

"No prob." Cindy retrieved her basketball, giving Maya a look. "You do kinda look like something out a horror movie though. You should probably go home and clean that up."

_Home_. Maya visibly cringed and shook her head. Big mistake. She felt another wave of pain flare up.

"I can't go home. Not tonight." Cindy blinked. "It's just…it's a family issue."

Cindy stared at her. Maya stared back. And then, Cindy was snorting.

"Don't I know about those." She tucked the ball under her arm. "Well, you can spend the night with me."

Maya blinked, surprised. After all, she and Cindy weren't the best friends. On _good _days they were mere acquaintances. She hung out with Caesar, Hiro and Huey, but she didn't run with females. The best she and Cindy usually did were polite hellos and goodbyes. And oh god, it took all her energy not to strangle Jazmine; her sweetness was overwhelmingly annoying.

So, this was pretty-

"I know it's weird," Cindy said, breaking her thoughts. Good thing too because her head was ringing so badly it even hurt to do too much of _that_. "But not wanting to go home to stupid shit…I can totally relate."

Could she? Maya gave her a skeptical look. Cindy probably had as easy of a time living her life as the Hilton sisters. What could _she _know about problems?

But hey. The girl was offering her an out to have to go back to that freaking house. Hiro was always crashing in her basement so he didn't need her there. And as for Kat and Macy…she just didn't give a shit at this point.

"Alright." Maya took a step forward, grimacing. "That sounds good."

Cindy smiled, wrapping her free arm around Maya's waist as they started down the street. Maya made a face.

"I don't need anyone to lean on." Her voice came out much meaner than she intended, but Cindy didn't even seem fazed. She shrugged, looking Maya square in the eye.

"I know." They continued down the sidewalk, the moon hanging over their heads. "But just in case you do, I'll be there."

* * *

Dory Chandler's house, like most houses in the richer part of Woodcrest, was big and spacious.

Unlike _most _houses in the richer part of Woodcrest, it was filled to the brim with people.

Jazmine shoved through the throng of people in the main hallway; she'd come in with Riley but he'd purposely gotten lost near the front entryway, looking for alcohol. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she did know that it was impossible to feel miserable in there.

And that was only because it was nearly impossible to feel _anything_. They were packed like _sardines _in that bitch, so tightly that at certain points she could stand completely still and be lifted off her feet by the surrounding bodies pressed against her. She finally managed to make it to another set of stairs where the crowd thinned out, sighing in relief and going down them. She was even more relieved when the air got cooler, the loud music from some stereo in the place fading out minus the pulsing of the bass, which seemed to shake the entire foundation of the house. She reached the bottom step and shook her head, looking around. She froze.

A good nine people were sitting around what she now saw was the basement, the table in front of a set of couches filled with beer bottles, some empty and some near empty. None of them were anywhere close to being full. An ashtray was on the corner of the table, cigarette butts and ash staining the crystal. The teens all stared at her as if she were an alien. Jazmine winced, already taking a step backwards so she could get back up the steps. This was obviously a mistake.

"Yo. Dubois." She stopped, spotting Dory sitting on the opposite end of the basement with some boy, her legs crossed and a cigarette dangling between her two fingers. Her blonde hair was big and wavy, a pair of silver hoops decorating her earlobes. She was wearing a tight red dress, red heels, and a bored expression. At least, it was until Jazmine took a step forward. She sat up straighter. One of the guys near the table, a boy she recognized from her English class, rolled his eyes.

"Who invited _her_?"

Jazmine squirmed uncomfortably, but to her surprise Dory cut her eyes towards him.

"Shut the fuck up, dipshit." Her gaze flickered towards Jazmine and she took a drag of her cigarette, a perfect stream of smoke curling from between her lips. "I did. And be nice, it's her birthday." Dory smirked. "Is it a good one?"

Jazmine realized that everyone was waiting for an answer and she shrugged, swallowing.

"Could be better."

"Ah. Mine, too." When Jazmine gave her a confused look Dory shrugged, tapping her cigarette against an ashtray of her own. The boy sitting beside her looked as if he couldn't take his eyes off her. "These fucks are being boring as hell. And my gifts _suck_."

"Wait." Jazmine blinked. "Today's your birthday, too?"

"Uh huh." Dory rolled her eyes. "It's my birthday and my folks bailed for some cruise. The bastards." She shrugged again, taking a swig of her beer and letting out a belch so loud that everyone jumped. "So anyways, I decided to have this party, but I had to get down here from it all. These dorks followed me. Gotta get some fresh air and whatnot."

Jazmine tried not to make a face. She'd gone to a smoke filled basement for "fresh" air?

"So what changed your mind?" Dory examined her nails. "Thought you had plans already?"

Considering that they'd had a grand total of two conversations their entire high school career, Dory had a knack for remembering details. Jazmine shrugged, trying to be casual.

"I did." She paused. "And then I didn't."

She saw Dory smile. A few of the others snorted appreciatively.

"Wanna beer?" It wasn't Dory who asked, but one of the other boys. When Jazmine took the time to look she realized that most of them were guys anyway, save two or three girls. She started to say no, but paused. Then, she nodded.

"Okay."

One of them tossed her a can; without even thinking about it she caught it, holding it in her hand and nodding.

"Thanks." She glanced towards the stairs. "I guess I'll go back up since you're-"

"You should stay." Dory tapped the ash off her cigarette again, flipping her long hair over her shoulders.

"You should." Jazmine now saw the redhead from the other day in the restroom nod in agreement. "No one important's up there anyway."

"She's right." Dory nodded. "The only people you wanna know are the ones down here."

And Jazmine believed her. The basement contained the quarterback of the football team. The captain of the soccer team. The captain of the wrestling team, the basketball team, the beauty queen and the heiress. It was just like regular global affairs; the one percent power elite sat at the top of the food chain while the others below them scrambled to make their name, to find their place. These people were the elite. They had their place.

Did they really believe she could have her own place, too?

"She's hella cool." The redhead was talking to the boy who sat beside her as Jazmine sat on the floor beside the couch, popping the tab on her beer and listening to it fizz like a soda. That's what it was _somewhat _like, right? Soda? She tentatively took a sip and nearly gagged.

Nope. _Nothing _like soda. Why did people drink this stuff?

"You good, Dubois?" The boy beside Dory asked. She nodded, taking a bigger swallow and focusing on the way that it went down cold while managing to feel like it were trailing flames on her throat at the same time.

Ah. _That _was why people drank it.

The bass continued to vibrate through the ceiling. The room was quiet. Jazmine wondered if it was only that way because she'd shown up. After a few minutes, however, Dory put out her cigarette butt and stood to her feet, smoothing out her dress and pursing her lips.

"Time to get back on the grind."

The others quickly stood up as well, putting out their cigarettes and crushing their cans in their hands, tossing them aside. Jazmine got up as well, watching them file out and troop up the steps, as if Dory was their commander. Based off of how things had gone so far she probably was. Jazmine watched them go, starting when Dory linked her arm with Jazmine's so that she walked with her to the steps.

"Being popular is like a business, you know." Jazmine stared at Dory in surprise as the girl shrugged, smirking. "It ain't easy like people think. Everyone watches your every move. Everyone. And your friends?" Her eyes darted towards the now empty couches, flickering back to Jazmine. "They're never your true friends. You need them though. You need allies. Trying to be somebody on your own is a dangerous game."

Jazmine blinked. Dory dropped her arm, leaning against the wall and folding her arms over her chest.

"It's like a movie. Or Hollywood." Dory rubbed her lips together, fluffing her hair. Jazmine couldn't help but watch her. They'd both turned seventeen but it seemed like the only one who had any sort of sophistication was Dory. "There's those low budget actors who you hear about once in awhile, or the coke snorting wannabes who are just trying to be in the tabloids to get on the radar. And then, there's the stars. The main attraction. Us." Dory shrugged again. "The ones who everyone wants to be. The ones whose lives are followed more religiously than people's own lives. The ones who are loved to their face, hated behind their backs, but always respected. _Always_." She winked at Jazmine, taking her hand and lightly tugging her up the steps. The girl stared up at her with confused green eyes. "Even the ones who hate us wanna be us. It's hard to get to the top." They both stopped on the top step, Dory's hazel eyes glancing towards the mulatto. "But it's so, so easy to fall."

She reached between them, twisting the doorknob and pushing the wooden door open; they were greeted by the loud, pulsing music, the loud yelling and chatter, the smell of alcohol and the wave of body heat. Dory let go of her hand, smiling as the both of them took it all in.

"Welcome to the show."

* * *

The doors to the convenience store chimed as Huey pushed them open, stifling a yawn…one that automatically vanished the moment his eyes fell on the coffee station.

Hayley was sitting on it, a bottle of Yoo-hoo beside her and a magazine in her hands. Her guitar was propped beside her, leaning against the chip rack beside her. Bruce was at the register, furiously banging the side of it with a hammer; the thing broke a good four times a week. Huey's eyes narrowed.

Call him a petty person, but he had his schedules and his rituals and a certain way he liked things…and some girl in the spot _he _usually occupied was _not _in the routine.

"On time, as usual," Bruce said as casually as a man who wasn't whacking the shit out of his cash register. Hayley looked up, a bored expression on her face. "And, as usual, you look pissed."

"I _am _pissed," Huey agreed calmly, even though he stared at Hayley the entire time he spoke. "And the person in my spot isn't helping."

Hayley blinked, glancing to her left and to her right before looking back at him.

"Said person has a name," she remarked calmly, turning the page. "Said person is also amused at the fact that someone like you is getting antsy over a taken spot." She snorted before glancing at Bruce. "Hey. This thing says Angelina's back in the mental hospital."

Bruce snorted, leaving the register alone long enough to shake his head.

"I don't know why anyone ever let her _leave_." He hit the register one more time, grinning as the drawer popped out with a cheerful _ching_! "Ah! I knew that would work." He looked up again. "All those damn adopted kids would send anyone to a mental institution."

""Someone like me"," Huey echoed. The other two glanced towards him. "And what is that supposed to mean, anyway?"

Bruce and Hayley exchanged looks. She shrugged as well, turning back towards him.

"I don't know." As opposed to him her voice held no annoyance. "You just seem like someone who doesn't get worked up over petty shit. In fact, you seem like you don't get worked up over much of anything. You've got the I-won't-take-your-shit thing going on, if you may." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Apparently you're also one of those I-like-things-the-way-I-like-them-so-fuck-you people, too."

Her observations were so on point that he couldn't even bother getting mad. Instead he walked over, grabbing a Styrofoam cup and picking up one of the coffee pots. Bruce grinned.

"You're _good_." Hayley smirked, taking a swallow of her drink and crossing her ankles. "How'd you do that?"

"When you have twelve siblings you also have twelve different personalities." She rolled her eyes. "And then my parents had their ways. And basically…everyone in Honolulu is _crazy_. So you have to learn who's gonna take shit in stride and who's gonna beat your ass."

"Twelve siblings." Bruce let out a low whistle. "That's twelve more kids than I want."

"Well, they're not all my mom's," Hayley explained, resting her magazine in her lap. "The first four are from my dad's first marriage. The next two are from his second one. And the rest of us are from his current."

"So, the third time's a charm?"

"Hardly. She's just too chicken to leave him. Twinkie?" Hayley offered Huey, holding up a package. He shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee.

"I try to stay away from things that'll eventually kill me."

She blinked. "You're drinking _coffee_."

"I said I _try_." He rolled his eyes. "Doesn't mean I always _do _it."

"Huey can't stay away from coffee any more than a republican can stay away from Jesus," Bruce joked. Huey smirked. Hayley glanced between them before shaking her head, opening her magazine again. "And how was school today, sir?"

"Fine, _father_." Huey began searching through the magazines as well, once again inwardly cringing at how, as usual, he'd forgotten to bring his own reading material. He could remember the constitution word for word yet he never remembered to grab a simple book as he head out the front door. "And how's business tonight?"

Bruce shrugged, glancing towards the empty parking lot. "I sold two bottles of Snapple, a pack of fruit snacks and three packs of Marlboro lights. I had to explain to that damn Ed Wuncler the third man why we don't carry cell phone chargers. And Hayley here played her own rendition of that horrible "There Goes My Baby" song-"

"I had a friend back in Hawaii who was _obsessed _with Usher." Hayley rolled her eyes, turning another page in the magazine. "So every song that came out by him I suddenly had to learn on the guitar to shut her up."

"Yeah." Huey really hated Usher. He hated Usher even more because Usher was the favorite singer of a certain _someone_, and he hated this girl who he barely knew because _she _was the one who'd caused this entire thing with said _someone _in the first place.

Alright, he couldn't blame her. He was the one who, instead of just admitting that he had a freaking date, decided to stand her up.

Wait, did it count as standing someone up if he showed up _eventually_?

Even better, did that really constitute as a reason for someone breaking up, if that was even what they'd done? Women were confusing. He couldn't help but think that Riley's stance on "not loving dem hoes" could possibly hold some truth to it.

"Was it hard?" Bruce's attention was on Hayley again and Huey glanced up as well. "Leaving your family like that?"

A contemplative expression fell over the girl's face. She set down her drink, swinging her feet to and fro over the linoleum floor.

"Yes…and no." She bit the inside of her cheek, staring out the glass doors. "Yes because I felt bad leaving my mom and my brothers and sisters in that…_mess_." She looked at Bruce. "And no. Because no one else would do anything to make things better. So I had to find my own way."

Hayley's direct honesty was unnerving. Not because it was bad to be honest, but because Huey was so used to _dishonesty _that it made it that much more surprising when someone was open. Bruce shrugged, shaking his head.

"That's a shame."

"That's a _damn _shame," Hayley integrated, continuing to read. "Hey. They're going ahead and building the Mosque by ground zero."

"_Good_." Bruce sighed, counting through the bills in the register and making tsk-tsk noises. "America never ceases to amaze me. The land of the free and home of the brave…if you're Christian."

"Well, I'm a Christian." Hayley shrugged. "Doesn't mean I think if you aren't one that you _suck_."

"The Jew in me is glad to hear that." Bruce grinned. "Christian you, Jewish me and atheist Huey can _all _have a party in hell. Or…purgatory. Or wherever the hell anyone goes. God, I don't know." Bruce frowned, banging on the register again. "Wherever it is I'll bring the beer. This _stupid thing_-"

"Move." Huey rolled his eyes, going behind the register and examining the machine. Bruce gave him a reluctant look as he stared at it. Then, he took his fist, rammed the top twice, hit each side once, and elbowed the front of the drawer. It popped open again, chiming brightly. Bruce blinked as Huey walked from behind the register again, his eyebrows raised.

"…Thanks…"

"Don't mention it."

"Obama made the sentencing for crack cocaine and the uppity rich-white-people cocaine the same." Hayley sounded appreciative. Bruce smirked.

"Obama, one. Uppity rich-white people, zero."

"Eh." Huey waved his hand, opening a magazine of his own. "They'll get out of it. They always do." When both Bruce and Hayley gave him looks he glanced up again, shrugging. "They're uppity rich white people with _money _to afford their bail and get their sentences knocked down to a slap on the wrist and a couple weeks in some cushy rehab center that's basically a resort. _Really_?"

"I know, Huey, but you didn't have to remind us that we're too poor to be above the law." Bruce shook his head. Hayley lifted her eyebrows.

"You do drugs?"

"No, because I can't even afford the cheap ones." Hayley giggled. "All jokes aside, I sold a one thousand dollar lottery ticket this afternoon? I wanted to hit the guy upside the head and take it for myself."

"But you're a good person." Hayley turned another page. "Good job."

"You're mighty quiet over there, Afro samurai." Bruce always thought he was so witty. Huey rolled his eyes, looking up.

"I'm quiet because I have nothing to _say_."

"Quiet _and _grumpy."

Hayley made a face. "How can you tell?"

"You can tell. Trust me." Bruce closed the register again, folding his hands neatly over the counter. "And what is ailing you tonight, Mr. Freeman?"

Huey stared at him before sighing, snapping the magazine shut.

"You remember the person, right?" When Bruce blinked in confusion he rolled his eyes. "_My _person."

Bruce blinked for a few seconds before visibly brightening, snapping his fingers.

"Panda Blossom!"

Hayley's nose scrunched. "_Panda Blossom_?"

"It's a code name." It was Bruce's turn to roll his eyes. "See, Huey and some unidentified person of the female anatomy are pulling some secret Romeo and Juliet mess or something. So, since he is super paranoid and couldn't even tell _me _her name, I came up with "Panda Blossom"."

"I am not _super _paranoid." Huey paused. "Just normal paranoid."

"Riggght. _Anyway_." Bruce waved his hand, continuing. "Panda Bears are apparently her favorite animal, Cherry Blossoms her favorite flower. So, I coined Panda Blossom."

"Which, is the worst code name to ever exist," Huey added, shaking his head. Bruce gave him a dirty look. "But it serves its purpose, I suppose. Whatever."

"_Whatever_." Bruce began arranging the cigarettes on the shelves behind him. Hayley smirked.

"You have a relationship with a human being willing to put up with you?"

"_Had_," Huey emphasized grudgingly. There was a crash and both Hayley and Huey looked towards the counter, where Bruce had managed to knock down a good dozen cartons of cigarettes. He gave Huey a shocked look.

"You and Panda Blossom are done?"

"Yeah, just like I'm done hearing that nickname." Huey shook his head. Hayley frowned.

"Tough look." She turned the page. "Better luck next time."

"Hayley!" Bruce gave her an exasperated look. "Come on, now! You're as negative as _he _is!"

"No, I'm realistic."

"So that's what the kids are calling it these days?"

"It's no big deal." Huey was beginning to regret bothering to open his mouth in the first place. Bruce threw up his hands.

"No big _deal_? Hayley." He turned towards the girl, jabbing his thumb towards Huey, who lifted his eyebrows. "Okay, this person of his, right? She called him one night about a few weeks ago? He _smiled_."

Hayley's eyes grew as wide as saucers, her expression filled with disbelief. "_No_."

"Yes!" Bruce shook his head, ignoring the dirty look Huey shot him. "I thought it was a grimace at first but then I realized it! I thought he'd lost his mind." He shook his head, sighing. "At least with this person he wasn't _as _grumpy. Just moderately grumpy."

"Huh." Hayley turned another page, once again shrugging. "Sorry. I'm pretty sure I loathe relationships. As much as I loathe Westboro Baptist Church."

"What's with all the religious references today?" Huey asked.

"Meh." Bruce shrugged. "My apologies. Should I start on my collection of racist jokes instead?"

"Depends." Huey shrugged as well. "Should I go sharpen my machete?"

"Wow. So much love I'm feeling in the room right now." Hayley continued to read. "So, so much love."

The three of them fell into a lapsed silence, Bruce bending down to pick up the cigarette cartons as Huey and Hayley continued to read. After a period of time passed Hayley lifted her head, giving Huey a sympathetic look.

"It does suck though." He looked up. "About the girl thing. So…sorry."

Huey took another sip of his coffee. "It is what it is, right?"

She smirked, looking back at her magazine. "Yup."

Huey sighed, giving her a look. "By the way-" She looked up. "Your audition was really good."

She blinked.

"Thank you."

"I wasn't saying it to be _polite_." He rolled his eyes, turning a page in his own magazine. "I was saying it because it's true."

Hayley made a face. "Excuse me for having manners?"

"You're excused."

Hayley shook her head.

"The damn thing's stuck _again_," Bruce groaned. Huey lifted his head.

"Do you remember what I did to get it to open?"

Bruce blinked. "Was I supposed to?"

"If you want your cheap ass register to open when I'm absent, yes." Huey shook his head as the older man broke out a crowbar, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Hayley cleared her throat so that he glanced at her.

"It'll be okay." She shrugged when he gave her a puzzled glance. "You and the girl." She took a sip of her drink. "If you're really supposed to be with someone it kind of has a way of working out in the end. And if what he said about you smiling is true-" He ignored the snort that came from Bruce's way, "-then it's probably not the end yet. It's probably supposed to work."

Huey rolled his eyes. "Thanks."

Hayley gave him a serious look.

"I wasn't saying it to be polite." Both teens turned towards the register to watch Bruce once again engage in war with the cash register. She took another swallow of her drink. "I was saying it because it's true."

* * *

He knew it was stupid. He knew it was wrong to feel the way he felt. But knowing that he couldn't ever be what he truly wanted, knowing that his life wasn't what he wanted it to be…it killed him inside.

Hiro watched the water run down the drain, letting his forehead rest against the cool tile that bordered the shower. He hated how he was so miserable and felt guilty for being so miserable…which only made him more miserable. He hated that his equally messed up best friend (even if she would never admit it) had _real _problems, yet he was depressed over something that probably seemed like nothing in someone else's eyes. But even if it was nothing to them, did that mean it was supposed to be nothing to _him_?

Was he legit depressed, or just some emo Asian kid that had a love affair with pointy objects?

Out of his friends he was probably the only one with a remotely stable home life (save Jazmine, but everything in that girl's life was stable so comparing anything to her would be futile). Maya's father had been out of the picture since she was five and her stepfather's death only wedged the hole between her and her mother and sister further. Huey and Riley's parents had been dead since before he even _knew _them. Cindy's mother was married and divorced so much he was sure she'd been with every man in Woodcrest, her own father gone. And as far as anyone remembered it had _always _been Caesar and his mother against the world (okay, scratch the part where he had the most stable home life; Caesar and his mother were so close they were like the black _Gilmore Girls_). The point was, his folks were well off. One day he'd get into an amazing school; he had the grades for it. And one day he'd make something of his life.

So if that was the case, why was he so damn unhappy? How come every time he thought of his future it only made him feel worse?

He'd once admitted to his parents how miserable he was and they'd laughed at him. Point blank, flat out laughed in his face.

"Oh, you teenagers always mope over something! You know no real problems!" his dad had chortled, nearly _crying _from how hard he was cackling.

"You don't know how privileged you are, Hiro," his mother had said, not even bothering to hide the fact that she thought he was being a brat.

The only person he'd gotten any sympathy from was Jazmine, who had looked at him with sympathetic eyes when he'd accidentally slipped on how hard it was just to get up some days. She'd pat his hands, her fingers coming just _inches _within the crisscrossed, telling red lines that lined his arms.

"I'm sorry," she'd said softly. "It gets better, though. It has to."

Did it _really _have to, though? Weren't people always saying that life got harder? Didn't people who weren't even _thirty _talk about how it just went downhill from there? If he could barely handle life at seventeen how would he be able to handle it in ten years? In five years? In _one _year?

There was more to life than just trying to survive. There _had _to be.

He was going to kill the Johansen's water bill. Hiro sighed, straightening and stepping underneath the spray, turning the hot water knob up until the water was hotter than he could stand, until his skin was turning angry and raw and red, as angry as raw as he felt.

He thought of Yuuta, dead and gone and off in some place that was probably better than where he was.

He envied Yuuta, who was dead, gone and off in some place that was probably better than where he was.

Yuuta may have been dead, but Hiro was becoming sure that living was much, much worse.

* * *

I swear it looks short but it's 7,000 words. I don't even know too many oneshots that are 7,000 words. So I don't wanna hear it.  
...I don't know why I feel the need to justify myself to you people...  
(Whaddya mean, "You people!")

Thanks for reading! And next you should...  
Review! REVIEW! DON'T CLOSE THE-

-Window. :/

;)

-Kelsey


	11. Self Evaluation

Hello all! Oh my goodness, my past weekend has been GLORIOUS; I got a job, I got a little bit of extra cash, and I just had a lovely time. I'm gonna need for this golden age of mine to last though; it's really not good to the nerves to stay down all the time. And, apparently, those with clinical depression have shorter life spans.

Oy.

Now, thank you to missingthepoint, MyWorldIsAnime, Denise, MissG2020, and Kirara2468 for the reviews! Someone mentioned something about Huey needing to be whacked with a newspaper. I died laughing.

And thanks as well to everyone who sent me messages well wishing me for the job hunt and whatnot! You're all too sweet, really. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Boondocks.

* * *

Self-Evaluation

Although Huey and Riley Freeman were about as different as they came, there were certain instances where they seemed to be on the same page.

For example, their similar takes on a curfew.

"Where the hell are _you _coming from?" Huey asked from the front doorstep, giving Riley, who was crossing the street, a funny look. Riley snorted, giving him a glance over of his own.

"_Me_? Nigga, where _you _been?"

Huey started to throw some smartass remark, but it was three in the morning and really, what was the point? "The store."

"Tha store." Riley's voice was flat, disbelieving. "You was gone from da crib fo hours…cause you was at tha _store_."

When he put it that way, it did sound pretty ridiculous. "Uh…yeah." Huey shrugged as Riley trooped up the walkway, his hands in his pockets. "Your turn."

Riley's voice was sarcastic. "Man son, I was at tha store."

Huey blinked. "Shut up."

"Okay but forreal tho." Riley jabbed a thumb behind him. Huey lightly sniffed the air and made a face. His brother smelled like straight alcohol. "Me an Jazzy hit up a party. Dat shit was _bangin_, son-"

"You…and Jazmine…were at a party." Since when did Jazmine _party_? Since when did she party and decide to go party with _Riley_? Alright, so she was probably the closest female friend that Riley had and it wasn't too uncommon for them to hang out, but _seriously_? As bad as it was to think, wouldn't it have been more normal for her to sit at home all night and cry because things hadn't gone her way?

What was _with _her? And what was with _him _actually giving a damn?

And what the hell was wrong with him where he'd actually rather her be upset than to go to a damn party?

"Dat's wat I said, ain' it?"

Riley was always such a charming conversationalist. Huey rolled his eyes, shoving his key into the lock and twisting it, turning the doorknob.

"You don't have to be so-" Whatever he was going to say neither of them knew, for as they both stepped into the foyer two things became evident:

For one, something was burning.

And for another…well, something was burning at three in the _morning_. Huey and Riley exchanged confused looks, Riley unceremoniously slamming the front door behind them.

"You leave da stove on when you left?"

"Yeah, Riley. I'd forget something as important as turning off the damn _stove_." Both of them made their way towards the kitchen, their shoes thumping lightly on the floor. The light was on as well, which was also weird; ever since Grandad had whooped their asses into the next century for leaving a hallway light on overnight when he was ten they'd _never _left a light on when leaving the room. Ever.

Grandad…

"Aye!" Riley glared at Huey as he shoved him out the way, rushing into the kitchen. "Wat da hell is _yo _problem-"

"Shut up." Huey went over to the stove, examining the knobs before realizing the oven was on. He cut it off, opening the oven door to peek inside. When he was greeted by a thick, black cloud of smoke he slammed it shut again, coughing. He covered his nose with his sleeve, turning around and giving Riley a look.

"Go check on Grandad."

"Man, why I gotta-"

"Just _do it_," Huey snapped, his tone so sharp that even Riley merely tossed him a dirty look, turning on his heel and disappearing out the room. Huey listened as his feet thumped on the steps and sighed, turning back towards the oven.

Pancreatic cancer was cancer of the pancreas, not cancer of the _brain_. It wasn't supposed to affect his memory of thought process…was it? Who was he kidding; Huey knew nothing about cancer. Hiro was the one whose parents were nearly pushing to go to medical school and Maya was the one who actually bought books on the human anatomy and read them as if they were novels. According to her it was in case her dreams of film school and producing fell through, because film was the only thing she considered herself good at and she needed a backup plan. Even Caesar's mom had worked in a hospital at one time or another and was forever trying to diagnose people with something. Huey knew the general mechanisms of cancer; overactive cell growth, blah blah blah.

But what did knowing that sort of thing do when your terminally ill grandfather was forgetting something as important as to, well, _prevent their house from burning to the ground?_

Or…maybe he was overreacting. It wasn't _too _uncommon for Grandad to forget things that didn't involve women, money or Barack Obama…but he really had a feeling that something was wrong.

"Aye Huey!" he suddenly heard Riley yell, causing his head to whip up so that he was staring at the ceiling. "I think somethin' wrong!"

Well, that was _great_.

"What is it?" Huey shouted back, hurrying out the kitchen and through the hallway before running up the steps. There was a pause, and then Riley replied as he reached the top step.

"Grandad's like…chillin' on da floor or somethin."

Grandad was lying on the floor in front of his bedroom door, outstretched on his back with his head turned towards the wall. Riley was standing over him, peering down as if he was waiting for their grandfather to sit up and start yelling at them. Huey shot him a dirty look, stomping over.

"You big _dumbass_." He crouched down in front of old man, whose chest was visibly rising and falling from underneath his robe. Well, that was a good thing at least. "I wonder if he fell…"

"He did _somethin_'." Riley was bending down as well, his hazel eyes filled with a rare concern that made his older brother frown. "Yo…you don' think somethin' wrong wit Grandad, do you?" He looked up. "Like, nothin' serious?"

Oh, boy. Huey inwardly cringed, staring at his brother. What was he supposed to do, go back on his word and tell Riley the same horrible news he halfway wished _he _didn't even know? Wasn't it wrong to flat out lie about it though? Yeah, he knew that Riley had no problem lying to any of them, but he highly doubted that Riley would lie about someone _dying_. He opened his mouth, trying to figure out the right words to say…

And then, he was spared of having to say anything by a soft moan that came from between them. They both leaned over their Grandad, who was slowly blinking and rubbing his eyes as casually as a man who slept in the hallway _every _day.

"Hmm…what?" Grandad adjusted his glasses, giving both his grandsons odd looks, as if _they _were the ones doing something out the ordinary. "What the hell are you boys doing?"

"You…fell asleep on the floor," Huey said, shrugging. Riley made a face. "And you…kind of left something in the oven. And you left the oven _on_." He frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Tryna make us _homeless_." Riley shook his head, already rising to his feet. "Way ta _go_, Grandad."

"Boy, hush!" Grandad rolled his eyes, sitting up and yawning. He lifted his arms over his head. "Wooo! I just needed me a power nap is all."

Huey sighed. "Grandad-"

"Got tired trying to get to my room-"

"Grandad-"

"But everything's fine, yessir." Grandad waved his hand. "Mmhmm."

"_Grandad_-"

"Well, goodnight, boy!" Grandad was on his feet, patting Huey on the shoulder and heading into his room, leaving Huey to blink after him. The door slammed shut and the afro wearing teen shook his head, sighing again.

Denial sure was a funny thing.

"Damn." Huey glanced over to Riley, who was yawning and staring at Grandad's door as well. "Wat is dat nigga _smokin_?"

"He's old, Riley." Huey shrugged. "He's not like he used to be."

"Well, I hope I ain' eva _dat _old." Riley shuffled towards his room, snorting. "Fallin asleep on floors an shit. Who da hell gon sleep on da floor?"

Huey watched him go, shaking his head.

"You don't know _anything_."

Riley paused, giving Huey a look. He shut his mouth, simply staring through the darkness to his younger sibling, to the boy he was so closely related to but so out of touch with. Riley's eyes narrowed, and the way he stared at Huey it was as if he knew something that he didn't. He shook his own head.

"Neither do you, man." Huey watched Riley walk into his room, something in his tone making his own eyes narrow. "Neither do you."

* * *

Hayley gently shut the front door behind her, sliding off her shoes and starting down the dark hallway. When she started past the kitchen and saw the light on, however, she stopped. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise.

Her aunt was sitting at the table, casually reading a magazine and sipping on a cup of coffee. Her eyes flickered up to her niece and she snorted, turning the page.

"I guess I'm not the only night owl who lives here anymore."

Hayley tried to analyze her tone. Was she angry that her niece was coming in at three thirty in the morning? Was she reconsidering her decision to let her stay in the first place? She straightened as her Aunt Kimmie opened her mouth.

"This is a pretty safe town, but…watch yourself." She looked back down to her magazine. "And try to make it in a little earlier on school nights."

Just like that. No questions. No accusations. No yelling or threats. Hayley nodded dumbly, nearly reeling from the shock of it.

"Okay." She started to continue to the stairs but then her aunt was speaking up.

"Why don't you grab some coffee?" When Hayley gave her a look she shrugged, gesturing to the half full pot that sat on the counter. "It's probably a horrible idea since I won't get to sleep until at least _eight _now, but I think I'll survive."

"I don't really like coffee." Hayley watched her aunt survey her with an unreadable expression.

"Well, take a seat anyway."

The girl hesitated before she dropped her backpack on the floor, propping her guitar beside it and walking into the brightly lit kitchen. She squinted, so used to the darkness that had surrounded her as she walked home that it was as if she were trying to stare at the freaking sun. She pulled out a chair opposite from her aunt, sinking into it and propping her elbows on the table. Her Aunt Kimmie closed her magazine, giving her a look.

Uh oh. Maybe she _wasn't _as laid back as it seemed. She swallowed as the woman paused.

"You are one edgy girl."

Hayley blinked. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it hadn't been that. "Huh?"

"It's as if you're always on the defense." When her confused look deepened her aunt sighed, taking a sip of her coffee. "Like you just expect anyone who stares at you long enough to jump on you."

Hayley shrugged. "Maybe I do."

Her Aunt Kimmie shrugged, smirking. "Maybe you do."

Hayley couldn't help but stare at the woman. She looked much younger than her forty something years. She wasn't a bad person. She wondered why she'd lived alone before she came along. Did she have a boyfriend? Had she ever had a husband? Any kids? That was when it struck her; she'd been living with an estranged relative for nearly a week and hadn't bothered to learn anything about her. Then again she wasn't very family oriented anyway. She'd forgotten how to go about those getting-to-know-you types of conversations. She watched her aunt lightly trace the rim of her mug with her fingertips.

"I heard from your mother today."

Hayley felt herself pale, and she wasn't even all that tan to _begin _with. Her aunt, noticing her distress, quickly went on.

"Your sister…Mia, I believe? She told her where you were going."

So much for keeping a secret. She could strangle her older sister. She really could.

"I told her you were here. Like I told you before, I'm not going to lie to them."

Hayley rested her forehead against her fists, staring down at the red and white checkered placemat beneath her elbows. She didn't say anything; she wouldn't have been able to think of anything to say even if she tried. She closed her eyes, waiting for her verdict. Her judgment.

"…She said that your father has no idea where you could be, and she won't be telling him."

Her eyes popped open. She slowly lifted her head, struggling to keep her jaw from dropping.

"…Huh?"

Her Aunt Kimmie sat up straighter as well, looking Hayley dead in the eye.

"Your mother said that she's not going to tell Akio where you are," she said, her voice even. Hayley took a deep breath. "She was relieved to know you were safe and with a relative. She said that you could finish out the school year here and then she'd reconsider her stance-"

"I'm not going back."

Her aunt blinked and she felt her face color.

"I mean…if she decides that she changes her mind-"

"She won't." Aunt Kimmie stared down into her cup, a light hint of a smile on her face. "She hasn't changed much from the sounds of it." She lifted her head. "That was the first time I've talked to her in sixteen years." Hayley felt her eyes widen. "She's upset that you left the way you did, but…in a way I think she understands."

Hayley really didn't care if she did. She was partially the reason she'd had to go in the first place. She couldn't even stand up for her own children. How could she expect her children to stand up for _her_?

"She explained to me the…circumstances you had to deal with at home." Kimmie frowned, giving Hayley a look. "And she said that even if she did want you to come home…at this point it wouldn't be good for you."

She didn't doubt it.

"How did you find me, anyway?" Hayley gave her a questioning look and she shrugged. "I haven't talked to my sister since you were a baby. And I only moved to this house four years ago…how did you know where to look?"

Hayley dropped her hands to her lap, staring at the table.

"I heard my…Akio, mention it." She refused to refer to him as her father. "Mom didn't keep up with where you went, but I guess he did."

Kimmie nodded, her expression pensive.

"And of all our relatives…what made you choose to come to me?"

"Does it matter?" Hayley's voice came out sharper than she meant for it to and she cringed, giving her aunt an apologetic look. The woman didn't seem the least bit affected by it; she merely shrugged, sipping at her coffee again.

"It doesn't." She set down the mug. "But it doesn't mean it's not worth knowing."

Hayley bit her lip, taking a deep breath.

"The only other relatives I could think of were Akio's family. And most of them lived on the island too." She shook her head, looking up. "You were the only relative on mom's side that I knew of. She said that when she was younger she was really close to her baby sister, and that's you." She paused. "I thought if I had any chance of getting away from there, it would be with you."

Kimmie gave her coffee a thoughtful look. Hayley could see some similarities between the woman and her mother; they were both quiet, choosing their words and thinking things through before choosing to speak. In a way, she was the same way.

But she didn't like being compared to anyone in her family, so it was a similarity she'd choose to ignore.

"I can't have children." Hayley's head whipped up; Aunt Kimmie was tucking her hair behind her ear, sitting up again. Her voice wasn't sad, merely matter-of-fact. "Not that I've met a man I consider worth my time to have them with." She gave her niece a knowing look. "I know you were wondering why I live alone. Everyone wonders at one point or another."

Hayley didn't say anything.

"You are going to hate me saying this I'm sure," she went on, resting her chin in her hand. "But when I saw you standing on my doorstep earlier this week, it was as if I were staring at a younger version of myself. I ran away when I was around your age." Hayley gave her a surprised look. "I wound up going back, of course. I could never follow through with things like that." She shrugged, looking at her again. "You have a strong front, and you keep it up well. But that's all it is. It's a front." She held a knowing look in her eye. "I could see that. I could see that you have layers, and it's going to take plenty of time to figure them out. I don't think even _you _can figure them out."

Damn. And Hayley liked to think of herself as simple.

"A time's going to come where you just won't be able to keep up appearances anymore." Kimmie's voice was soft, serious. "You're going to have to sort things out. You can't hide behind a front forever."

_Sure, you can, _Hayley thought. Kimmie nodded, her brown eyes searching Hayley's face.

"And I'm sorry." She shook her head, her voice filled with sympathy. "I'm sorry for what you've been through."

Hayley stared at her, inwardly cringing. She hated sympathy. She couldn't stand when people felt sorry for her. She lifted her chin, staring at her aunt.

"It is what it is."

"That's true." Her aunt snorted. "Doesn't mean that you can't acknowledge that it sucked."

Hayley swallowed. Her aunt slowly smiled, extending her palms and placing them on the center of the table.

"I'm going to try to do this right, since we've never properly introduced ourselves." Her aunt nodded towards her. "My name's Kumauni, but I prefer Kimmie. And I have absolutely no idea how to establish personal relationships with my family."

Hayley couldn't help but smile. She slowly held out her hands as well, placing them overtop her aunt's and allowing their fingers to lace.

"My name's Hayley." She smirked. "And me neither."

* * *

Somewhere in the midst of it all, it had been decided that she was important. It was a weird feeling.

Jazmine shuffled through the front door, not bothering to be quiet since Cindy was the heaviest sleeper she knew and it wasn't like there was anyone _else _she had to worry about disturbing. She kicked off her shoes, yawning and rubbing her eyes as she slouched to the living room. It couldn't have been any earlier than three, and from all the dancing and drinking she'd wound up doing it was a miracle she'd even still known how to get _home_. Even that accomplishment was probably thanks to Riley, who had been able to navigate them through the silent neighborhood with ease, even in his tipsy stupor. She'd probably feel it in the morning, but for now she felt as light as air and wasn't quite willing to come down yet.

She also wasn't willing to drag herself up the steps to her room, which was why she chose instead to slump over to the couch, dropping her purse to the floor and letting out a sigh as she flopped down on the sofa.

_"Ow_!"

"Oof!" Jazmine tumbled to the floor as a mass suddenly started moving in the darkness and gasped, her eyes widening. Oh, she was _definitely _aware now. "Who the hell are you?"

"_Me_?" The too familiar voice had her eyes narrowing as she pushed herself to her feet, hopping over to the wall and feeling for the light switch. "Who the hell are _you_?"

Jazmine's fingers brushed against the switch and she flicked it, blinking and scrunching her eyes shut as the bright light hit them. After a few seconds she opened them again, her jaw nearly hitting the floor.

"_Maya_?" The other girl was rubbing her eyes as well, wearing a black wife beater, a thick bandage on the side of her face, and a frown. "Why are you on the couch?"

"The better question," Maya groused, rubbing her head; her half undone ponytail fell over her shoulder. "Is why you were trying to fucking _suffocate _me. What are you doing here, Dubois?"

"Um, I live here!"

"Really?" Maya looked around, a thoughtful expression falling over her face. "You know, that would explain all the pictures of you and the fam."

Jazmine wanted to point out that she should've known that Jazmine lived there since she was forever going to the Freeman house and they were right across the street, but she bit her tongue. It was partially because the less anyone talked to Maya Johansen the better, but mainly because the longer she thought about the Freemans, the faster she felt her mood dropping. She pushed the thoughts away, brushing her hair out her eyes.

"Well…how come you're on my couch?"

Maya sighed, flopping back down and tugging the comforter that Jazmine recognized as the one from _her _bed over her head.

"Didn't feel like goin' home."

Jazmine nodded, blinking tiredly. This night was just too weird for her. "That makes sense."

"Yup." The girl sat up again, pointing to the side of her face. "Didn't want to explain this." She winced. "Shit, I can barely remember what my _name _is right now."

"What _is _that?" Jazmine couldn't help but ask curiously, forgetting to be tired long enough to sit on the carpeted floor, tucking her legs underneath her. Maya sighed again, letting her hand lift before it was flopping back into her lap.

"Just my trophy for taking a baseball bat to the face."

Jazmine winced. "Ouch."

"Yup." Maya blinked, groaning and rolling over again. "It sucks but someone's gotta do it." She groaned again. "It feels even worse than _before _I went to sleep."

"I don't even see how you _can _sleep." Jazmine gave her a sympathetic look. She and Maya liked each other about as much as one liked a flesh eating virus, but she couldn't help but feel bad. Maya cracked an eye open, snorting.

"Where you comin' from?" Jazmine blinked. "All late and shit."

She shrugged, clasping her hands in her lap. "A party."

"Party?" The covers rose again and Maya gave her a disbelieving look. "You _party_?"

"Apparently." Jazmine couldn't help but smirk at Maya's amused expression. "I didn't know it, either."

"Well." The girl sat up, her expression still pained. "I think…I need drugs."

"Um, I've got some Tylenol-"

"Not _that _weak shit." Maya waved her hand. "Tylenol's as useful to me as spatula's are to hamsters."

Jazmine made a face. "…What?"

"_Exactly_." Maya nodded, as if she'd made any kind of sense, and shifted under the blanket. "God, that light is _killing _me."

"Sorry." Jazmine got up, flipping the switch so that they were once again enclosed in darkness. She couldn't help but realize that she was being bossed around in her own house. At three in the morning. She looked towards the couch, shifting timidly on the balls of her feet.

"Well…can I get you anything?"

There was a pause so long that Jazmine thought Maya may have fallen asleep. But then, she spoke up.

"Some…water would be nice."

Jazmine nodded, even though Maya no doubt couldn't see it, navigating her way through the darkness with ease and going into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of water and letting the door fall shut again. She undid the cap as she walked back into the living room, still trying to sort out how Maya Johansen was on her _couch_.

"Thanks." The girl took the water from her, taking a few large swallows before holding the cold bottle to the side of her face. Jazmine felt her face scrunch up. "Seriously."

"Sure." Jazmine stood there awkwardly, biting her lip. "I guess I'll leave you to that then…"

"For real, though." Maya's voice made her pause. "What made you decide to go to some party?"

Was it really _that _out the ordinary for her to go out, or was Maya just too delusional to realize how nice she was being? Jazmine hesitated.

It was probably a little bit of both.

Huh.

"I just…felt like doing something different," she said, instead of going into how the last place she'd expected to go was some rich girl's house party. "I don't know." Her voice grew softer. "It was weird. It felt like for awhile…it felt like I was someone different." She paused. "I liked party Jazmine a lot."

Wow. Just a little after twenty four hours of being seventeen and she _still _sounded like an idiot. Why was she even talking to _Maya_, of all people? She shook her head, turning away.

"Goodnight-"

"I feel you." Her head whipped back around, her eyes widening in surprise. She could see Maya still sitting up in the darkness, resting her head against the sofa. "Sometimes it just seems like…well, I don't know." She adjusted herself, yawning. "You just ever gotten to that point in your life where you just realize things aren't going as nearly as well as you want them to? And you're just like-"

"Something needs to change," Jazmine said softly. There was a stunned silence.

"Yeah." Jazmine could see Maya nodding. "Exactly. _Ow_."

"I don't know what to change." Jazmine shrugged, frowning. "I know that there's _something_, but I don't know what."

"Well." Maya sounded half asleep. "You said you liked party Jazmine." Jazmine stared at her. "Maybe you should change something you _don't _like about yourself. If you don't like it, fix it. Common sense." She shrugged as well. "It's a start, right?"

Jazmine blinked. "I-I guess."

"Mmhmm." Maya lay back against the couch again, closing her eyes. "Go for it. At least you _can_."

Jazmine made a face. "You can, too."

"Please." Maya snorted. "I'm always going to be the girl you only talk to if you have a death wish. I couldn't change that if I _tried_."

"But…there's a lot of things I don't like," Jazmine confessed. Maya cracked an eye open, rolling it before tugging the covers over her head.

"Then I guess you gotta lotta work to, lite brite."

Jazmine stared at her for a few more seconds, but then the sounds of Maya's snoring reached her ears. She shook her head, picking up her purse and managing to climb up the stairs. She started towards her room, but stopped. She knew that Cindy was in there since she always managed to fall asleep there, despite the fact that they had a guest room that she'd basically taken over. She looked down the opposite end of the hallway, towards her parents' room. Before she knew what she was doing she found herself wandering in, dropping her purse beside the door and glancing around.

Light from the street was pouring in, dim yellow patches landing over the royal blue rugs and matching bedspread. Jazmine felt a lump rise in her throat and the taste of salt hit her tongue before her eyes were welling all over again.

Yeah. Party Jazmine was _a lot _better. Party Jazmine didn't cry. Party Jazmine didn't have a care in the world.

Party Jazmine didn't know what it was like to feel absolutely, ridiculously, painfully alone.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, climbing on her parents' bed before she could stop herself and resting her head on their pillows. She slowly curled into a ball, closing her eyes.

How long had it truly been since she and her parents had been in the same room longer than five minutes? How long had it been since they'd bothered asking how each other's day was going? How long since they'd discussed their dreams, their aspirations? How long had it been since her parents had genuinely loved each other?

They were always working, always traveling, always living their lives and leaving her to her own leisure. Geez, did they even love _her_?

Did _she_ do something wrong to make them resent each other the way they obviously did? It wouldn't be the firsttime she'd done anything wrong. She was too immature, too emotional, too cautious. Couldn't she do _anything _right?

She hugged herself tighter, squeezing her eyes shut even tighter.

_Change something you don't like about yourself._

She slowly opened her eyes. The room was slightly blurry, her tears distorting her vision. She sniffed, her brow knotting in concentration.

What didn't she like about herself? She sat up, leaning against the headboard and staring across the room to the wall, drawing her knees to her chest.

What didn't she like about herself…her eyes filled all over again, and it was only because when she tried to think of something to change it seemed like, as Maya had said, she _did _have a lot of work to do.

What didn't she like? A better question was: could she think of anything she _did _like?

* * *

"These eggs are _salty_."

"Just _eat them_, Johansen." Cindy rolled her eyes from her place at the stove; Maya was sitting at the kitchen table, slowly drinking a cup of water, a bottle of ibuprofen beside her plate of eggs and bacon. "Sorry I don't have the homemaker touch of sleeping beauty, but I don't think she'd want me to wake her up just to cater to your mean ass."

"Ah." Maya took another bite of eggs, wincing and swallowing heavily. "Your words are just filled with poetic beauty."

"You're welcome, bitch."

"You are so lucky." Maya closed her eyes, shaking her head and setting down her fork. "You are so lucky I feel like I've been hit by an Amtrak train, because I would be on that lily white ass so quick-"

"Why does my ass have to be lily white? Why can't it just be an ass?" Cindy shook her head, poking at the eggs in the frying pan. "Racism. Such a tragic thing."

"I ain't no racist," Maya grumbled. "I don't discriminate. I spread my hatred among _all _races. Hatred knows no color."

Cindy's eyebrows rose. "I…don't know if I should admire that or be afraid."

"The second one." The front door opened and Maya took another bite of eggs. "Definitely the second one."

"You," Hiro said, striding into the kitchen and rolling his eyes, "are forever making someone track you down-" He stopped in his tracks, spotting Maya's head and wincing. "Jesus _Christ_, Maya Grace."

"Don't _nag_." Maya speared some more of her eggs, grimacing and pushing the plate away. "Eat these. Please. I think I'm gonna throw up."

"Damn. You welcome!" Cindy rolled her eyes as the front door opened again, Caesar walking in. A soccer ball was tucked under his arm. He sniffed the air, grinning.

"Lemme find out Cindy makin' breakfast!" He set the ball beside the doorway, rubbing his hands together. "Her eggs be _bangin'_."

"_See_?" Cindy waved her spatula towards Maya, who was looking heavenward. "_Someone _appreciates my eggs."

"Please." Maya blew a strand of hair out her face. "I take Caesar's opinions as seriously as I take Disney channel singers."

"That ain't even right…_daaaang_." Caesar's eyes widened as he stared at Maya. "What happened to your _head_?"

"Maya looks _fucked up_. _Thank _you." She threw up her hands. "I think we are all aware now."

"Seriously, though." Hiro sat down in the chair beside hers, giving her a worried look. "What happened?"

"Well-" Maya was cut off as the front door opened _again_, Riley strutting in with Huey closing the door behind them. "Goddamn, what is this? _Madea's Family Reunion_?"

"Don't even." Huey rolled his eyes. "Tyler Perry productions are about as good as…_damn_. What happened to your _head_?"

Hiro, Caesar and Cindy burst out laughing; Maya folded her arms over her chest.

"I hate you _all_."

"What else is new?" Cindy pointed out. Maya opened her mouth to protest, but then she shrugged.

"True." She took another sip of water before giving Riley a look. "Someone else doesn't look much better than me-"

"Oh, hol' up." Riley shook his head. "Don' even try ta play me, son. Cause I ain' tha one wit a tumor growin' out tha side of my face-"

"Fuck. You."

"He's hung over," Huey explained, earning a glare from the younger Freeman in response. "He was throwing up for a good twenty minutes-"

"Nigga, I kno how ta hold my liquor!"

"Well. _This _is a productive conversation." Caesar leaned against the refrigerator, giving Cindy a look. "We were supposed to be at the park an _hour _ago-"

"And then a bum slept on the sofa and I had to take care of her."

"_What_?" Maya slammed her cup down, her eyes narrowing. "I don't need _anybody _taking care of me, homegirl. Don't get it twisted…and did you just call me a _bum?_…_ow_."

"You know your mom was freaking out until like, one in the morning, right?" Hiro asked. Maya snorted, closing her eyes.

"Not my problem."

"And Kat wasn't much better, either."

"_Still _not my problem." Maya opened her eyes again, picking up the ibuprofen bottle. "I've decided that families are overrated."

"_True_," Huey, Riley and Cindy all chorused, Riley flopping down in the chair beside Hiro's. Cindy gave them both looks.

"Eggs?"

Huey made a face. "Don't eat them."

"Do you eat _anything_?" Cindy asked. Huey gave her a blank stare.

"_Babies_." His voice was deadpan serious. "Sometimes if I'm in a good enough mood I'll go find a stray puppy. More protein."

"You are one morbid moron." Cindy turned to Riley. "And you, sir?"

Riley winced. "Uh…I dunno…"

"Scared you gonna throw up all over the Dubois' fancy floor?" Caesar taunted. Riley shot him a look.

_"Fine_. I'll eat some."

"Take mine!" Maya thrust the plate towards him. "Please!"

"If you don't want them just throw them away!" Cindy snapped, wheeling around. Both Huey and Maya snorted.

"Yeah. Throw perfectly good food away like a typical wasteful American," they both shot back. Huey looked amused. Maya looked annoyed.

"We've gotta stop doing that." She shook her head. "Can someone just _eat _these? And why the hell did you even give me bacon, Cindy? You _know _I don't eat pork."

"Number one, I didn't and number two, you are way too mean considering that I'm trying to help _you _out."

"You can help me by finding the girl who whacked my upside the head in the first place so she can finish me off." Maya groaned, burying her face in her arms. "I feel like I'm _dying_."

"Yeah…let me know how that goes." Huey rolled his eyes. Caesar set down his plate that he'd grabbed, looking around the kitchen.

"Where the hell are the forks in this piece?" he asked aloud.

"The second drawer on the right of the dishwasher," Cindy and Huey replied in unison. Everyone stared at the both of them. Maya's eyebrows lifted.

"How the hell did you know that, Freeman?"

"Yeah," Cindy echoed, giving him a challenging look. "How _did _you know that?"

Huey rolled his eyes, sighing. "Jazmine's dad had me come over one night to help him with some campaign tactics and I saw him go in there for silverware." He leaned against the counter, shaking his head. "Any other questions?"

"Ooh! Pick me!" Caesar lifted his hand, flexing his fingers. "Pick _me_!"

"You _still _ain' told nobody what happened to yo head!" Riley pointed out, snapping his fingers at Maya. She lifted her head, sighing.

"Okay." She ran a hand through her dark hair, giving him an exasperated look. "Okay, I was walking, right? Minding my own business, by the way." She shot both Huey and Hiro dirty looks. "I cannot begin to stress that point _enough_-"

"Alright, alright." Hiro lifted a hand. "We get it. This is completely, one hundred percent not your fault. Like _always_-"

"Shut up," Maya interrupted, sticking out her tongue and looking at the others. "Anyway, so I'm walking, and this car pulls up, right? Five bitches climb up out that piece. One of them's got a bat."

"Metal or wooden?" Huey asked. Everyone except Maya gave him odd looks.

"Does it _matter_?" Cindy asked, her voice filled with disbelief. Maya waved her hand.

"He's asking because metal ones bounce and ricochet off solid surfaces whereas wooden bats do more damage," she explained in a knowing tone, rubbing her forehead and yawning. "Yeah, it was metal. Still hurt like a _bitch _though."

"I imagine." Huey gave Cindy an annoyed look. "Huey's questions have points to them. Surprise."

"I'm just feeling the love in here," Hiro mumbled sarcastically. "_Feelin' _it."

"_Anyway_," Maya continued, her voice softer; she glanced at Cindy's back. "I was sure I was done for. I mean, five to one? No way. But Cindy came by and…well, she helped fend them off."

Four heads turned to look at Cindy, who was still scrambling eggs as if nothing was going on. After a few seconds she sighed, her shoulders stiffening.

"This is _so _uncomfortable."

"That was a nice thing to do," Caesar pointed out. Cindy rolled her eyes.

"It wasn't the nice thing to do." She cut the stove off. "It was the _right _thing to do."

"Well, that too." Caesar shrugged. "I'm just sayin'. I'm sure if the situation was reverse she wouldn't have jumped in, so-"

"Fuck you, Medusa." Maya snorted. "The only one who can give you all shit is me. Anyone else who does so will get a foot up the ass."

"Or a bat to the face," Huey pointed out. Maya shot him a dirty look.

"You're funny, Freeman. _Hilarious_."

"I do what I can."

"So, is the Caesar-Freeman-McPhearson-Dubois-Otomo-Johansen clan doing anything extravagant today?" Caesar asked. Huey made a face.

"Why does _your _surname come first?"

"Because I made it up," Caesar replied evenly. Maya rolled her eyes.

"I think ladies should be first. And when I say ladies-"

"-you exclude yourself," Huey finished, snorting.

"Oooh!" Everyone laughed as Maya threw her empty cup at him; he dodged it easily and shrugged. She rolled her eyes.

"That's why no one likes you, Freeman. Except for that man-ish Marcella Hayes."

"Why would you even _remind _me of her?" Huey asked, sounding genuinely horrified. Maya grinned.

"To make you miserable. I've noticed it's not hard to do."

"Marcella Hayes?" Riley's forehead scrunched up in concentration. "You mean dat one who on tha volleyball team, tha soccer team-"

"The one whose biceps are bigger than my currently swollen forehead, yes," Maya interrupted, looking disgusted. "I hate that girl."

"You hate her because she's the only girl at our school who could beat your ass," Cindy joked. Maya looked bored.

"You wish. I'd obliterate that bitch."

"So why so much hate?" Caesar asked. Hiro smirked.

"It's because Marcella for some insane reason thinks that Huey and Maya have something going on and she likes him, so she hates Maya," he explained, sounding amused. Neither Huey nor Maya looked anywhere near as interested. "She thinks that all the times Huey's rejected her…how many has it-"

"Twenty four," Huey answered dully.

"-she thinks that the twenty four times Huey has rejected her have been because of his love for Maya." Hiro shrugged. "I don't understand her logic."

"Me neither." Maya's nose wrinkled. "If I had to choose between saving Huey or a bag of pretzel M&Ms from a school of killer piranhas I'd save the M&M's." She cast Huey a glance. "No offense."

"Oh, none taken." He rolled his eyes. "If I had to choose between dating Maya or spending a life sentence in a jail cell with Lil' Bootsie, Wocka Flocka Flame and Ed Wuncler the third, I'd pick the second option."

"I can't believe you compared me to those _things_." Maya looked disgusted. "I _hate _you."

"The feeling's mutual."

"It's funny." Caesar shook his head. "You'd hardly know that they're best friends."

"I'll best your friend!" Maya snapped, grabbing her head. "What's a girl gotta do to get some hardcore _painkillers _around here?"

"Stop with the bitchassness?" Cindy suggested.

"Be nicer so you don't have as many enemies?" Hiro added.

"Get sum Patron an take dat shit to tha _head_," Riley put in. Maya blinked at them.

"No, _never_, and you're an idiot," she said, letting her head flop onto the table. "_Ouch_! GODDAMNIT."

"I need normal friends," Huey sighed, shaking his head. Caesar frowned.

"Speaking of normal friends…my headcount's off." He glanced around. "We're missing one."

"Oh, she's knocked out." Cindy tossed the pan in the sink, wiping off her hands with a paper towel. "She ain't get in till…I don't even know."

"I'd leave her alone anyway." Maya's voice was barely audible from where her head was buried in her arms. "She ain't seem like she wanted to deal with nobody. Like, for real."

"Aww." Hiro poked her shoulder. "Maya cares about Jazzy?"

"Oh, my god." Maya lifted her head, looking disgusted. "It's like…I try to hate her but I _can't_. It's _annoying_."

"Maya Grace Johansen actually _liking _someone," Caesar joked. "The world _must _be coming to an end."

"Shut up!" Maya snorted. "I'd still wipe the floor with her scrawny ass if I felt inclined."

"Your ways of showing friendship are just…astounding." Hiro pat her shoulder. "I think you need some sleep."

"I think she needs her shots…"

"Shut the hell up, Huey!"

"And, once again, since we are forever going on _tangents_," Caesar cut in before anyone else could start on some other rant. "What are we doing today?"

"I don't know about _you_, but _I _have to work," Huey said.

"Ditto," Hiro and Maya mumbled. Cindy shot Maya a look.

"You're going to work with that thing?"

"I considered calling out." Maya's face darkened. "And then I remembered who my family was. And then I realized I'd much rather suffer the agony of working my ass off to make the corporate white man's dreams come true than to lie in my bed with Macy and Rainbow Brite harassing me."

"Okayyy…"

"Besides," she added. "I can't take another day off. My boss is still pissed off about me taking off for my birthday."

"…That was in _July_." Caesar blinked. "I'm gonna need for him to get over that."

"Ima need for somebody ta pass dat bacon ova here!" Riley snapped. Cindy handed him the plate, rolling her eyes and glancing back to Caesar.

"I'll be ready to go in like, ten minutes," she said. Hiro stood to his feet, stretching and extending a hand towards Maya.

"You've gotta go back eventually," he said. She sighed, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her to her feet.

"Macy's gonna have a fit," she grumbled. "She's probably gonna try and make me go to the hospital-"

"Uh, you probably need to go!" Cindy pointed out.

"_So_? I don't want to." She winced. "Okay. Walking _sucks_."

Hiro sighed. "Don't tell me I've gotta give you a piggyback-"

"Yup!" Maya gave him a pleading look. "Pleasepleaseplease-"

"Okay! Damn."

"Why you nicer to Hiro than tha rest of us?" Riley complained. Maya hopped on Hiro's back, sticking out her tongue.

"Because A, none of you fuckers ever give me piggyback rides and B, because he's my best friend. Oh, and C." She glanced over her shoulder as Hiro started for the front door, hanging on to his shoulders. "I hate you all, with the exception of Huey Percy Freeman, whom I only like when he gives me Sun Chips."

Huey rolled his eyes. "Glad to know I'm good for _something_."

"You _should _be glad." The front door closed behind the duo and Cindy rolled her eyes.

"Why are we friends with her again?"

"Because despite her cold and unpleasant demeanor, she is actually a good person with well placed intentions," Huey said in a bored tone. Cindy smirked.

"You sound like you've been rehearsing that…"

"I have." He shook his head. "I tell myself that when I'm also questioning our friendship, which is probably every single day of my _life_."

"If no one's gonna eat these eggs I'm throwing them away," Cindy warned. Caesar shrugged.

"Why don't you eat some of them?" he suggested. Cindy shook her head, taking the plate that held the remainder of the fluffy yellow eggs and heading for the trashcan.

"Not hungry."

"Really?" Caesar retrieved his soccer ball. "Because playing soccer on an empty stomach might not be the best idea…"

"I'm fine." Cindy scrapped the food into the trashcan, missing the odd look that Huey and Caesar exchanged as she did so. Riley got up, waving his hand and starting for the door.

"Ya'll niggas _wack_."

"You always say that, yet you're always coming around." Caesar stroked his chin. "Kinda like that homeless guy that Jazmine fed in Meadowlark park when we were playing basketball who won't stop stalking us whenever we go there now."

"Jazmine's forever feeding something." Cindy smirked, shaking her head. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with that girl."

"Can't live with her, can't live without her?" Caesar asked. Cindy smirked.

"More like _can _live with her, can't live without her."

"You're so sweet," a voice came from the doorway, causing everyone to spin around; Jazmine was leaning against the doorframe, smirking. Riley made a face.

"Speakin' of lookin' like dey been hit by a bus-"

"You win that one. No contest." Jazmine straightened, giving them all a wave. "Good morning. Goodbye."

"Whoa! Where ya goin'?" Cindy asked as Jazmine started for the front door, yawning. She had a backpack over her shoulder, a book in her hand. She shrugged.

"Study, work, and wherever the wind takes me. Or something likes that, I don't know." She pulled open the front door. "See ya."

"Bye…" The door slammed shut and Cindy sighed. "I've been trying to get that girl alone since like, Thursday." She rolled her eyes. "She won't stay still long enough. It's like pulling teeth."

"She's got her own thing going on. The baby of the group is old now so she's gotta do big girl stuff," Caesar joked, picking up the ball, heading for the door as well. "I'll be outside, Miss thang!"

"Yeah, yeah!" Cindy started out the kitchen as both Riley and Caesar went outside, the front door clicking shut. She gave Huey, who was getting a bottle of water, a look.

"Just so you know," she said, watching as he closed the refrigerator door and stared back, "it's gonna come out eventually. The truth," she clarified when his eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Even if you two are through, it's gonna happen. So I suggest you both handle that since it's only a matter of time."

Huey rolled his eyes.

"Thank you for your unneeded advice."

She shrugged, giving him a challenging look.

"And thank you for ruining my best friend's life."

She rounded the corner, not bothering to stick around for a reply. And when she didn't get one, even when she paused in the hallway, she realized that he didn't even have one.

* * *

So far I've decided the most fun people to write are Cindy, Maya (duh; she IS mine) and Riley. I don't know why. Just one of those things, I guess.

Soooo thanks for reading! And review! C'mon! C'MONNNNN!

-Kelsey


	12. War of the Worlds

This is a long one. Yup.

Thanks to MissG2020 and missingthepoint for the reviews. I was reminded I have other stories. I'll try to update another one of them soon. :P

...Wow. What is with these short NOTES?

Disclaimer: I do not own the Boondocks.

* * *

War of the Worlds

She stood at the window as the sun rose over the horizon, ignoring the light snores from the blonde who was sleeping on the other side of her bed. Her fingers held the curtain aside so that she could gaze down into the driveway where an unfamiliar car had pulled up, the engine quiet as the early dawn but not silent enough to keep from waking her. She held her breath, her heart beat pulsing in her ears as she watched a familiar person crawl out the passenger seat, his smile huge as he crossed over to the driver's side to say something into the open window. She could make out a woman she'd never seen before, who was staring at him the way she'd once seen her parents stare at each other when they'd actually loved each other.

For the first time in her life, she wasn't naïve about it. She wasn't too green to not know that this woman, this _stranger_ wasn't just simply dropping him off. She wasn't too ignorant not to notice that this woman she didn't even know was getting more attention from her dad than his own family.

She wasn't too stupid to not see that her mother wasn't the only one doing the crossing.

Her eyes closed and she let the curtain fall over the window again, the room becoming much darker.

Ignorance was bliss and knowledge was power. But with knowledge there was pain. Hurt. Sadness.

Her hand gently formed a fist and she opened her eyes, narrowing them. She opened the curtain again just in time to see the car back out the driveway, her father walking towards the front door as if he didn't have a care in the world.

He probably didn't.

She let the curtain close again, turning away. For the first time since this entire ordeal with her parents had started, she didn't cry. She didn't even tear. Instead she glanced towards her door. She could hear his heavy footsteps on the stairs, could hear their bedroom door creaking open before it was closing tightly again. She sighed.

It was just another burden, another secret, another problem that wasn't hers that she'd have to keep with her along with all the others. She tried to save the world, even if she'd been told that "if you try to save everyone, you wind up saving no one".

She was tired of trying to save the world. She was tired of trying to save _anyone._

She was tired.

That was why instead of feeling the sadness consume her, another, much stronger emotion emerged.

Anger.

And for the first time in her seventeen years, she decided at that the universe could handle its own shit from then on because she was done. She was done with people. She was absolutely _done _with putting her all into people and getting nothing but disappointment and she was tired of people dumping all their crap onto her and giving nothing in return. She was done with putting other people's feelings before her own. She was sick of feeling like she was the only one who cared. She was sick of feelingin the first place_._ She was sick of _everything._

She didn't want a part in it anymore.

Any of it.

* * *

Cindy could tell that her Monday morning was about to turn to shit the moment her phone started going off.

She glanced at the screen of her vibrating phone, pausing on the front steps of the school. Instead of trekking forward she made a one eighty, jogging back down the steps and walking a short distance down the sidewalk, ignoring people who pushed past her, laughing and complaining about it being so early. She pressed the _talk _button, taking a deep breath and holding the phone up to her ear.

"_What_."

"Is that any way to talk to your mother, Cynthia?" she heard her mom ask in her ear. She tucked her hair behind her ear, closing her eyes.

"What, _mother_?" she ground from between clenched teeth, nodding towards a group of guys she noticed from her marine biology class before speaking again. "I'm at _school_."

"Of course." Her mom sounded as if she were one of three things; drunk, high, or simply deluded into thinking that they were okay when they weren't. With her luck it was a combination of the three. "I apologize that I'm calling to check on my only child, who I haven't seen in days."

Cindy's hand tightened around the phone.

"Whose fault is that?"

Her mother's laugh was casual, airy. "Oh, Cynthia." The girl's eyebrows rose. "When are you going to stop being unreasonable?"

Cindy nearly gaped at the phone. "_I'm _being unreasonable?" Before her mother could go on she spoke again. "No. _No_. Mom, you don't _get _it. I stay away from you because I refuse to be around a bunch of drama! I don't come around because when I'm over Jazmine's I ain't gotta fear for my _life_. Do you even _care _about me, mom? Do you care about _any _of that?"

Shit. Her mother was in one of her phases, this phase being the I-guess-it's-time-to-pretend-to-be-a-good-mother one. Half the time she couldn't be bothered with Cindy's schedule, and then out of nowhere she wanted to give a damn. Sure enough…

"I'll tell you what I care about," her mother nearly growled, her voice low in Cindy's ear. "I care about the fact that you disappear for days at a time and I have no idea where you are, what you're doing-"

"Oh, come _on_-"

"I am your _mother_, Cindy." Her mom referring to her as her nickname wasn't like for other people; other people saw "Cynthia" as a punishment. Her mom was the exact opposite. "I don't care what I do or how you feel about it, but I am your _mother_, and as your mother you do what I tell you to."

Cindy's spine stiffened. She could feel fury rising in her veins.

"A _shoe rack _makes a better mom than you do," she snapped angrily. "Jazmine's parents are more like parents to me than you'll everbe." She could feel her throat tightening. "They'd do _anything _for me. I've never felt like I belonged until I started staying with them."

Her words were met with a silence so cold she felt herself cringe. She knew that her mom had never been a big fan of Mr. and Mrs. Dubois, especially when Sarah had been the defense lawyer for one of her ex husbands. She was one of the few people who didn't like Jazmine, sure that she was trying to turn Cindy against her. For her to say that she basically preferred them over her…well, it wasn't something that would go over well. She heard her mom clear her throat.

"Well, your little vacation's over, because you're coming home."

Cindy froze. Around her, the steadily blowing wind seemed to cease, the entire street giving way to silence. It was like time around her had stopped. She forced herself to keep breathing.

"…What?"

"After school, you're coming home." Her mom's tone was final. "You _aren't _their child, as much as you'd like that to be different. You're _my _daughter. And you live under _my _roof."

"Mom." Cindy's voice was thick. "You can't _do _this-"

"I can, and I will." She heard her mom sigh. "It's something I should've done a long time ago."

Cindy wasn't much of a crier, but she felt tears begin to well in her eyes. She closed them, sniffing.

"I won't do it." Her chest was aching. "I won't go."

She heard a snort, as if her mom was finding the situation _funny_.

"I'm sure Jazmine's parents can explain to you the legal aspects of this situation being that they're lawyers," she said in a tone cold enough to make the summer heat feel like winter against her skin. "If I tell you to come home you are to do so. You are _my _child, you're _my _responsibility-"

"Since _when_?"

"-and you're a _minor_." Her mom emphasized the last part over the rest, talking over Cindy's protesting. "That means that until you turn eighteen you do what I tell you. If you were to stay there without _my _consent I could call the cops. I could _sue_ them, Cindy." Cindy's eyes widened. "Did you know that? Is that what you _want_?"

Cindy hated her mother. She truly, utterly _despised _her. She could get hit by a bus and she wouldn't even bat an eyelash.

"Is it?"

The stupid _bitch._

Cindy exhaled through her nose, trying to clear her head of its racing thoughts. She had to go home. She had to go back to her mother and her mother's stupid, abusive, drunk boyfriend. In other words she had to go back to sleeping with her door locked (a habit she'd _just _gotten out of) and basically venturing through her own house with a bat in case anyone tried to give her shit.

She couldn't. She'd rather die.

If she went back, there was a chance that she _would_.

"I'll get emancipated." The words were out of Cindy's mouth before her brain even registered them; once spoken, however, it sounded like a damn good idea. "Then the only person I'll have to answer to is myself-"

"And how exactly do you figure you'd get away with _that_, dear?" her mother asked in a false interested voice. Cindy's eyes narrowed. "You belong to the third richest family in Woodcrest, if not all of Maryland. You can have everything you want. Why would a judge see fit to take you out my care when I can provide you with your every need?" Cindy blinked. "Besides, by the time the proceedings would be over with you'd probably _already _be eighteen." When Cindy didn't say anything, settling on biting her lip and trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall, her mom went on.

"Cynthia." Her tone was soft, sympathetic almost. "I'm not doing this to punish you-"

"Then why are you _doing _it?" Cindy breathed, her voice barely a whisper. Her mom sighed.

"Because, despite what you think…I love you. I miss you. And I want things to be okay between us."

'_Your definition of love is a joke,' _Cindy thought. She cleared her throat, the warning bell from school vaguely ringing in her ears.

"Fine. I'll be home after school."

She could practically _see _the smile that her mother's face held, even before she spoke into the phone.

"I'm glad you've come to your senses."

Cindy shook her head, her knuckles white from how hard she was gripping the cell phone.

"Oh, and mom?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

Cindy snorted, her eyes hardening.

"You can burn in hell." She hung up the phone before she could get any retort, squeezing it so tightly that she was surprised it didn't crack. She turned back around, heading up the significantly less crowded stairs and nearly throwing open the front doors as she strode inside.

She couldn't believe that she had to go back to that _place_. Living with her mother wasn't home. Living with her mother was _barely _humane! She hated the thought of returning there; it felt like she had to separate herself from her friends when she did, just so she wouldn't give anything away or expose her life for the complete mess it was.

And poor Jazmine had gotten so accustomed to Cindy being around, to _finally _not having to be alone so much, only for things to have to change. She'd innocently asked if she could spend the night over Cindy's one time and the blonde had nearly screamed at her that she could never stay there, making her think that she didn't want her to. It was the exact opposite; she wished that Jazmine could stay with her. She wished that she and Jazmine could just drop everything and drive to California, a plan that they always tossed around when either of them were having a horrible day and they wanted to imagine that things could be better than what they were. They were practically inseparable, and now her stupid mother was coming between then as if she were trying to pull apart Siamese twins.

"You," she heard, quickly lifting her head to see Caesar siding up to her, his stride matching her own, "look horrible."

That was the thing about all her friends being boys. They were always being so damn _honest._

Cindy made a face. "That's something _every _girl wants to hear."

"I do what I can." Caesar stopped, reaching into his bag. Cindy stopped as well, her hand holding on to the strap of her own backpack as he pulled out a brown paper bag, handing it to her. "It's an extra sausage biscuit. The moron at the McDonalds I stopped at jacked up my order so they gave me an extra one, which Riley stole." He rolled his eyes. "But I stole Huey's bagel _anyway_ and I know you scarf these things down like they're candy so you can have it."

"Oh." Cindy held the bag with both hands, staring down at it. "Thanks."

Caesar gave her a look. "What's up with you?"

Cindy shrugged, sighing. "Just wishing that this year was over already."

Caesar smirked, lightly punching her shoulder and continuing down the hallway. "Join the club."

She watched him merge into the thinning crowd, staring back down at the bag. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since the morning before. With all the running around she'd been doing she usually forgot to eat.

Besides…she was finding that the few times she _did _remember to eat, she wasn't hungry. Or even if she was, she'd for some reason just really, _really _prefer to do something else. Her sudden aversion to food was strange, but not as nearly as strange as the fact that the longer she went without eating…the _better _she seemed to feel. It didn't make sense, and it wasn't something she felt like trying to make sense of.

That was why instead of eating the sandwich she crumpled the bag even further, tossing it into the trash as she passed it. She sighed, continuing down the hallway, her heart feeling slightly lighter with each step.

Hey, everything else was going to hell. At least she had _something _she could control.

* * *

"I need to burn something."

Hiro glanced sideways towards Maya, shaking his head. She wasn't looking at him, her dark eyes instead staring straight ahead.

"You don't."

Maya trained her glare to the floor from where she sat with her back to her locker, her arms resting on her knees. Hiro was sitting beside her, one of his earphones in his ear while the other dangled over his hoodie. His drumsticks were in one hand, his free one resting on the floor between them. She snorted, rolling her eyes and looking away.

"What do you know?"

Hiro snorted as well, shaking his head again.

"I know that playing with fire's not the way to solve your problems."

Maya blinked at him, her eyebrows arching. Her hair that was always in a ponytail or some half assed bun was out, parted so that it fell over the side of her face and hid her bat induced bruise from view. He stared back, watching as her gaze slowly traveled down to his sleeves. Her eyes narrowed as they flickered back up to his face.

"You sure _you _can tell me how to solve my problems?"

Of every single person in the universe she was the only one who knew his secret, and she was the _last _person he'd wanted to know.

The first time Maya had noticed his arms they'd been fifteen and she'd snuck over his house when she was supposed to be grounded. It was summer, it was late, and she'd arrived unannounced, completely unplanned. It was the only reason that when she climbed into his window he wasn't wearing sleeves like he usually did, and being that she was a stickler for details it was the first thing she saw. Her eyes had widened to the size of his fists.

"What the hell is _that_?" she'd hissed, the fact that his parents would kill him if they knew he had a girl in his room at midnight keeping her from shouting. He'd started to look for a sweatshirt but then she was marching over, knocking his arms apart and holding them both with her hands, palms up, so that she could stare at the scars layered over his pale skin, the light from the ceiling making them stand out even more prominent. She'd dropped his right arm, holding his left one still and brushing her fingers over the cuts. She'd stared up at him, and for a moment he was so sure that she was going to scream the house down that he was already trying to think of excuses to tell his parents for why she was there.

But then…for the first and only time in the history of their friendship, her eyes started glistening, and he'd stared in horror as Maya Johansen, the angry, strong girl of Woodcrest, burst into tears.

It was possibly the worst reaction of them all. Her anger was expected, practically warranted. But the fact that she was crying and that _he _of all people had caused it was probably what made it so bad, what made him feel so guilty that he was swearing he'd stop, that he'd never do it again. Maya was like his little sister, even though she always grudgingly pointed out that she was exactly three weeks older than him, her birthday coming in mid July and his in the beginning of August. She was tough no doubt, and she could be mean. But he always saw past it. He always knew that there was more to her, just like she knew that there was more to him. The only problem was even though they both knew so much about each other, it was just that much more that they _didn't _know.

His eyes narrowed. She shook her head, unzipping her backpack that was sitting in front of her and rummaging inside. He stared at her as she pulled her hand out again, slapping something into his palm.

"Next time you should consider not leaving your evidence. And _don't _say it's Kat's because she ain't stupid, much as I hate to admit it," she added. "And don't you dare say it might be mine because I'm even _less _stupid."

Hiro stared down at the object he was now holding, quickly looking back up at Maya's face. She was glaring at him with such intensity that he swallowed, averting his eyes.

"I thought you _stopped_, Hiro."

"I did."

"Then what, you thought the damn Swiss army knife was so cute you'd carry it with you in the shower?" Maya shook her head, giving him an exasperated look. "You said you _quit_."

She said it as if he were trying to cut _cigarettes_.

"And you said you weren't going to burn shit up whenever _you _got down, but you do it anyway." He lifted his chin. Both he and Maya had self destructive personalities, a fact that she'd pointed out one afternoon when she was reading some psychology journal in his backyard. They both had a problem with knowing that the paths they chose were the wrong ones yet opting to take the same route nonetheless. They knew how to make their own flaws seem justified and they were both wrong for it, but it didn't stop them from doing it. She shook her head, staring straight ahead.

"It's not the same, Hiro."

"It's not all that different-"

"It's completelydifferent!" she snapped, her eyes cutting towards him again. He flinched. "It's different and you know it."

"No, because I can't get _arrested _off it," he shot back, watching her eyes cool. "But _you _can get arrested. It's called _arson_."

"But it doesn't matter." Her voice was dry, sarcastic. "Because you're through doing it, right?"

Hiro blinked, forcing himself to shrug.

"I said I was, didn't I?"

She stared at him, her eyes searching his face. She was good at dissecting lies from the truth, so it was only a matter of time before he was exposed for the liar that he was. She shook her head.

"Let me see your arm."

Hiro gave her a dirty look, casting a glance towards the moderately crowded hallway. "Could you be any _louder_-"

"If there's nothing to hide then it shouldn't matter," she argued, her voice considerably softer than before. "Hiro, just let me see."

"I ain't gotta show you _anything_."

Maya shook her head, resting the back of her head against the locker and closing her eyes.

"Are you _kidding _me?" She let out a laugh of disbelief, turning her head to stare at him again. "Hiro, are you fucking kidding?" He didn't say anything and she ran her hand over her face. "Are you _trying _to kill yourself?"

He glared at her, his own dark hair falling into his eyes.

"No."

She stared at him again, her expression wary. He stared back, trying to keep his own face calm, trying to be as unreadable as she always was. After a few moments she sat up straighter, shaking her head.

"You have to stop."

He gave her a look. She looked back, her mouth set in a thin line. He rolled his eyes.

"I said I wasn't-"

"I'm not _stupid_, Hiro!" she suddenly yelled, causing a good dozen people's heads to whip their way. Hiro cast her an evil look and she sighed, her shoulders slumping and her voice falling. "I mean you've been wearing all those stupid sweatshirts and you've been so off…_ugh_." She smacked a hand against her forehead. "I was so _stupid_."

That was what he hated; how she just took it upon herself to take the blame from his actions and place them on herself. As opposed to getting mad at him for even _doing _it she'd beat herself up for not noticing, as if it was her fault. As if he was her responsibility.

"My, come on-"

"No, _you _come on," she retorted hotly, scooting closer. "Hiro, look-"

"You gotta pencil?" a boy suddenly asked, stopping in front of Maya. She rolled her eyes.

"Get the fuck _outta _here, Gary!"

The boy held up his hands, backing away and muttering a quick "_bitch" _before turning around, disappearing around the corner. Maya looked back to Hiro, her eyes narrowed.

"I am one hundred percent, completely against snitching," she said in a low voice, her eyes serious. "But I'm against losing my best friend even more." He stared back. "If you don't cut it out yourself, I'm gonna find someone who _will _make you stop."

He felt panic surge inside his veins, followed by an irrational wave of anger. He pushed himself to his feet, glaring down at her.

"That's reallynice," he snapped; her eyebrows lifted. "And you expect me to keep quiet about your little fire obsession?"

She stood up as well, her own voice hard.

"Listen here, _buddy_." She poked a finger in his chest, drawing herself to her full height. "I'm not going to let your half ass threats keep me from doing what _I _have to do to make sure you don't hurt yourself. You know, since I guess you can't be trusted to take care of yourself-"

"Are you serious?" The bell for first period rang and all around them people started running to their classes but both of them stood rooted to the spot, their focus on nothing else but the person in front of them. "Me not taking care of _myself_? I'm not the one getting hit in the head with bats-"

"But I didn't hit _myself_, did I?" she nearly yelled; at that point neither one of them were watching their tones. "I'm not the one slitting my own damn wrists-"

"No, you're just setting entire buildings on _fire_!" Hiro shouted, throwing up his hands. She glared at him. "Look. Your…habit, is probably the only thing keeping you as sane as you are." She folded her arms over her chest. "_Don't _take away mine."

She stared at him, skepticism falling over her features. He stared back, standing his ground. She finally shook her head, looking torn.

"If something was to happen to you and _I _could've stopped it, I'd never forgive myself." She sighed. "Hiro, I haveto tell someone. It's not healthy. I can't _not _do anything."

Hiro nearly gaped at her. Above their heads the bell went off again, signaling that anyone who wasn't in class was tardy. He didn't care. What he _did _care about was the fact that the person he trusted the most was now the only person he just wanted to get away from.

That was another flaw of their friendship; for him, Maya was nicer. She was more considerate. She was the person that people were always telling her she should be.

And, if it came to that point, it was as if all her negative traits would transfer over to him. He was the only person who received her niceness and she was the only one who got his anger, his bitterness. It rarely happened, but when it did it was enough to do damage.

"I don't understand why you think you're just so much more together than I am," he snapped, watching her eyes narrow. "I don't destroy property with what I do. I don't put _other _people's lives at risk, which you have no problem with doing." When she didn't say anything he shrugged, shaking his head. "I'm not hurting anyone else but myself. You impact complete _stranger's _lives. But _you're _the healthy one?"

Maya lifted her chin, giving him a look.

"I never said I _was_." She let her hands drop to her sides, snorting. "And if you really think _you're _the only person you hurt when doing what you do, then you seriously have some issues."

Hiro took a step back from her, giving her a cold look.

"I hate you."

He spun around, storming down the hallway and never looking back.

* * *

"I," Dory said aloud, fanning herself with her hand, "can_not _stand summertime."

Jazmine glanced up at her, her elbows on her knees. Summer was her favorite season, but right about then she was over the humidity that always made her hair a mess, the stupid beaming sun that made her sweat, and the fact that since it was nice out they were forced to go outside, play sports, and get _graded _for it. Geez.

They were in gym, the only class she and Dory had together that wasn't lunch, and their teacher had insisted that they pair up with _another _P.E. class for a "good, old fashioned game of baseball". Her _ass_. She liked sports about as much as she liked bullies. It was why she and Dory, along with a good majority of their P.E. class, were sitting on the bleachers behind the home plate of the baseball diamond, the sun beaming down on them and the teacher's whistle only threatening to irritate her more. She watched Dory peer down at her, squinting in the sunlight.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, she and Dory had become friends.

"Something's bothering you."

Jazmine looked up again, snorting.

"_Everything's _bothering me."

"Alright class, listen up!" Their teacher, a short woman with a high ponytail and a serious obsession with whistles, strut in front of the bleachers and put the hand holding a clipboard on her hip. She used the other hand to pick up her whistle from where it was hanging around her neck, blowing into it so that a sharp, piercing sound came out and made everyone groan. Never mind that they'd _already _been paying attention. "The other class should be on their way out her. They're taking the field first and we're batting." She ignored the series of moans that rose, waving her hand. "Now, I know some of you are going to try and hide at the back of the line, so I'm gonna go ahead and call you all to go up to the plate in alphabetical order. Got it?"

It was times like those where Jazmine really hated that her last name started with the fourth letter of the alphabet. Dory sighed, shaking her head.

"Chandler." Her voice was like the rest of her; at ease, relaxed. She didn't seem like she got worked up over much. "Why couldn't my last name have involved a Z as the first letter? Zuckerman? Zipperman? _Zimmermann_?"

"Because life would be way too easy that way," Jazmine snorted, rolling her eyes. Dory appraised her with a look. She was a lot smarter than Jazmine had originally thought, and a lot more observant.

"You look seriously pissed off." She let out a low whistle, her blonde ponytail bobbing behind her. "I didn't even know you were the type to _get _that mad. You look like you need to get _laid_. Seriously."

"That's always good to know." The other class had gotten there, the students all filing on to the field. She didn't pay them any attention. Dory smirked.

"Well, have you?" When Jazmine gave her a confused look she shrugged. "You ever, you know…done it?"

How the hell had they gotten on _that _subject?

Jazmine's eyes narrowed. "Is that any of your business?"

Dory shrugged. Jazmine's newfound attitude didn't bother her; if anything, it got her even more interested.

"It's not," she answered honestly as their teacher stepped forward, glancing down at her clipboard. "But you can still feel free to share."

"Christopher Ames!"

"Man, this _sucks_," a dark haired boy in front of them grumbled, pushing himself to his feet and trudging forward. Dory examined her nails, her gaze flickering towards the mulatto as he took the bat the teacher held out to him, looking annoyed.

"So." Dory smirked. "Have you?"

Jazmine stared at her, examining her face. After a few seconds she shrugged, staring down at her feet.

"Yeah." Dory didn't even bat an eyelash. "I have."

Dory nodded, turning towards the field again.

"It's a great stress reliever," she stated matter-of-factly, watching the game. Jazmine couldn't help but roll her eyes. What a weird ass conversation.

"Dorian Chandler!" their teacher suddenly called, making Dory sigh and roll her own hazel eyes as she stood to her feet, climbing down the bleachers. Even in their gym uniform she managed to make a fashion statement; she'd tied her shirt into a knot in the back, exposing her flat stomach, the sleeves of the white t shirt cut into even rectangular pieces that she'd strung some beads on. Her black shorts looked a bit…_shorter _than they were supposed to, and even though Jazmine usually thought girls who did stuff like that were nothing more than attention wanting airheads…Dory was different. Dory had something about her that made her stand out from other girls, that made even the most extreme of things she did look normal.

The girl picked the bat up from the dusty ground, stepping up to the plate and sighing again as the guy behind her, a black guy with braids and a smirk, nodded towards the pitcher. Jazmine glanced towards the center of the field…

And nearly had a heart attack.

Huey was standing on the pitcher's mound in his own gym uniform, surveying Dory with an unreadable expression. The girl stared back at him, lifting her chin and holding the bat up, falling into a stance. Jazmine glanced at all the bases. Apparently, due to their vacancies, their first classmate had struck out.

Someone managing to hit anything Huey Freeman pitched would be a miracle. Dory apparently was aware of this since she rolled her eyes at him.

"Can you just throw the ball and get me _out _already?" she asked, annoyed. Huey lifted an eyebrow, sighing himself and rearing his arm back, obviously not even putting much effort into the throw. Regardless it sailed past Dory's shoulder, even as she swung the bat through the air. He shrugged, smirking.

"Whatever."

"Strike one!" the boy behind Dory yelled, tossing the ball back to Huey.

Oh, _damn_. Jazmine felt her foul mood only get worse. She was already over school, over stupid gym…and now she'd have to get embarrassed because she couldn't hit a stupid ball? Not to mention she'd feel so awkward, failing to hit a ball her ex boyfriend pitched.

Even if no one else knew that he washer ex boyfriend.

Even if_ she_ had been the one to break up with _him_.

Huey pitched another ball and Dory swung, once again missing. The boy standing behind her grinned, holding up two fingers.

"Strike two!"

"Good thing I can count, ass hat." Dory blew a strand of hair out her eyes. The rest of their class sat up, no doubt rooting for her to hit the final pitch. Jazmine sat up herself, doing the exact opposite and hoping that she could strike out so that the girl in front of her, Anna Davidson, could go ahead and strike out as well and they could switch. Then she could just go stand in the outfield, sulk, and _not _have to deal with him.

Then again why would he care about pitching a ball to her anyway? He was probably _glad _to be rid of her.

Huey lightly tossed the baseball in the air before bringing his arm back again, once again throwing the ball towards her. Dory swung again, the ball flying right into the umpire's gloved hand.

"Strike three!" He waggled his fingers towards Dory, who tossed down the bat like it was nothing and shrugged. He winked up at her. "Call me?"

"Pssh." She pat his head in a sympathetic way before walking back to the bleachers. "_Not_."

Jazmine shook her head, easing into her spot. Good. All Anna had to do was strike out, which would definitely happen, even _if _Huey was going easy on them. Dory flopped down beside her, yawning.

"What's the point of gym again?"

"To suffer." Jazmine glanced towards their teacher as she looked at her clipboard, pausing before calling out the next name.

"Jazmine Dubois!"

"_What_?" Jazmine nearly shouted, her heart stopping; the teacher lifted her head. "What about Anna?"

"Anna ain't here today and even if she was I called _you_, not her. So get your butt up there!" she shouted, blowing her whistle. Jazmine covered her ears, rising to her feet and glaring at the lady while stomping towards home plate.

"Alright, already." She rolled her eyes, her head still ringing from the high pitched sound. "_Geez_." She slowly crouched down, picking up the metal bat and tapping it twice against the plate for good measure, straightening and lifting her head. She glanced at Huey, who was staring at her with the same indifferent expression he'd given Dory. She sighed, relieved.

At least he didn't give enough of a damn to make this worse for her-

_SLAM_!

"Holy shit!" the boy acting as the umpire yelled, jumping back; Jazmine whirled around to stare at the wooden fence behind them. The other students sitting on the bleachers rose as well, gaping at the large hole that was now in the wood with wide eyes. Both teachers turned towards Huey, who was standing there as if it were completely normal to throw a ball so hard it broke through a _fence_. The hole was even _smoking._

"Strike…one," the boy behind the mulatto managed weakly. Jazmine's eyes widened.

She hadn't even _seen _him throw that! Her teacher blew her whistle again, making her jump; Huey glanced at her.

"Feel free _not _to break school property while pitching, Mr. Freeman!" she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth. He nodded, turning back towards Jazmine, tossing a new baseball in the air and staring at her. His eyes hardened. She felt her own eyes grow large, and then they were narrowing as well.

He wanted to be petty about this? Well, fine. She fell into her batting position, gripping the baseball bat with sweaty palms. Huey lifted his leg, bringing his right hand back and hurling the ball so quickly that it was barely a blur before it was zooming past her again, the force sending a blast of air knocking into her as once again the ball collided with the fence, the sounds of wood splitting making everyone cringe. Huey's P.E. teacher gave him an exasperated look as splinters of wood clattered to the ground.

"Mr. Freeman!" her own teacher yelled again, throwing down her clipboard. Huey rolled his eyes.

"My bad!" he shouted, not sounding the least bit sorry.

Jazmine turned towards him, feeling her temper kick into high gear. She did not _need _this right now. She realized he was mad at her and he had the right to be, but it wasn't her problem. And she wasn't going to make it her problem.

What she was going to do, however, was hit that damn ball so that she could wipe that cocky smirk off his stupid face.

She got into position again, her eyes narrowed in concentration and her ponytail falling over her shoulder. She glared right at him, staring into his wine colored eyes with such intensity she felt as if it had just turned fifty degrees hotter outside. He glared back, not bothering to hide the anger that nearly burned in the depths of his irises. She took a deep breath, focusing all that anger, all those pent up feelings, all her energy on the ball, on that one ball…

_'I hate the way things are.'_

She watched him bring his arm back, loosening her arms but gripping the bat tighter. Her eyes never left his.

_'I hate that we never had a chance.'_

Huey was no doubt doing some different pitch that he had with the others; there was no way he was going easy on her. And in a way she didn't want him to. No, no one had ever bothered going easy on her before, so why should they start then? He brought his foot back, preparing to swing…

_'I hate that you think you know me.'_

She watched his arm swing forward, the ball shooting from his hand as if being launched from a cannon. Her eyes hardened.

_'I'll prove you wrong.'_

The ball was flying so quickly towards her that it was practically smoking. Instead of cautiously waiting she stepped forward to meet it head on, her expression turning into one of anger.

_'I'll prove _everyone _wrong.'_

She swung the bat with every ounce of strength she had, the sound of metal colliding with the baseball so loud it seemed to echo through the entire field. A few of her classmates stood up, a series of "Ooooh!" ringing through them all as the ball made a high arch, soaring over their heads and sailing towards the outfield. Jazmine dropped the bat, lifting her chin and giving Huey, who was staring at her in surprise, a smirk.

And then she took off, running to first base for all she was worth.

"Go Jazmine go Jazmine GO!" a good majority of her classmates were chanting, cheering as she passed over first base, heading for second. She could still see a group of people running for the ball, which had finally hit the ground, as her left sneaker pounded against the second base, the cheering growing louder as she raced for third.

"Got it!" she heard someone shout; in the corner of her eye she saw Huey turning towards the guys, his hands outstretched so that he could get the ball from them.

"Hurry _up_!" he yelled, sounding annoyed asshe quickly hit third, running for home.

"OH MY GOD YOU BETTA RUN, BITCH!" Dory shouted, jumping up and down; it was the most enthusiasm Jazmine had seen out of her since she'd started talking to her. She saw Huey leaping up to catch the ball, whipping around to throw it towards the umpire. She saw it flying towards her.

And then she was leaping into the air, landing hard against the dirt and sliding to the base, causing a cloud of smoke to rise…

"SAFE!" the umpire yelled, causing everyone in her class to start cheering; Jazmine lifted her head to see her fingers sprawled across the gritty surface of the final base, a grin spreading across her face. She pushed herself to her feet, dusting herself off and giving her classmates a thumbs up. Dory was shaking her head, smirking. Jazmine took a deep breath as she started back towards the bleachers, giving Huey a look over her shoulder.

He was staring at her again, his eyes still narrowed. She felt her fist clench, her jaw tightening and her eyes doing the same.

_'I don't need you.'_

Huey wanted to make this worse than it had to be? Huey wanted a war? She shook her head, turning away and walking back to the bleachers, flopping down beside Dory.

_'I don't need anyone.'_

If a war was what he wanted, a war was what he'd get.

* * *

Sometimes, Riley thought about being an astronaut.

He'd never admit that shit, of course. The chances of that happening were slimmer than the chances of him winding up on the honor roll. Besides, people had to have perfect grades in math and science or go to school for engineering or some mess…he ain't have time for all that.

There were other times he thought about being an artist, but almost all of them were poor and if there was anything he _didn't _want to be, it was poor. One time when he and Huey were getting along he'd heard his older brother mention something about going to school for graphic designing to excel in it, but Huey was the one who didn't know shit about art so he didn't take his ideas too seriously.

He found himself wondering about his future more often, though. He'd sit in class and doze off, wondering when the day would come where he'd be seen as more than some lost cause, or if the day _would _ever come. Grandad was always telling him that he needed to get serious so that maybe people would take him seriously. What he didn't understand was that reputations preceded people, and his was no exception. His teachers judged him before he even opened his mouth. Most his friends were only "friends" because they were afraid of him. If he told Grandad all that it was seen as making excuses. If he informed Huey of his problems he was told that if he hated it so much to change it.

Easy for him to say.

"Freeman!" The loud yell jerked him to attention, causing him to spin around as his boss, a stern faced woman named Angela, stomped in. She had her hands on her hips and her typical no-nonsense face on, causing him to sigh and roll his eyes.

"Don't _give _me that crap," she snapped, shaking her head. "I pay you to wash dishes, not stand around and _daydream_." When he merely blinked at her in response she sucked her teeth, shrugging and waving her hand. "Whatever. Look, I know you're sick of being the only dishwasher back here and you probably feel like you're dying by the end of your shift-"

"I feel like I'm dyin' _before _mah shift-"

"Boy, hush!" Angela snapped her fingers shut, making him roll his eyes again. "Well, I got sick of your whining, so I hired someone else." She turned towards the swinging double doors, tapping her foot. "Sometime _today, _Hawaii!"

There was an exasperated sigh, followed by an Asian girl that Riley recognized from the first day of school ambling in, looking as if she'd rather be anywhere else in the world. Angela nodded, satisfied, and gave Riley a look.

"Riley, meet Hayley. Hayley, Riley. You'll be working together." She rolled her eyes. "_Happy_, Freeman?"

He shrugged, staring at the girl, who merely shrugged back. He turned towards Angela, smirking.

"Well, I'd be hella happy if I gotta raise-"

"Boy, get to working!" Angela barked, dismissing his comment with a wave of her hand as she stalked back out the doors. Hayley turned away from the door, giving Riley a bored look. His nose wrinkled.

"Why tha _hell _would you wanna work _here_?"

"Well, I didn't." Hayley shrugged, sticking her hands in her pockets. "I came in, asked her if she knew anywhere around here that was hiring because I just moved here and needed a job, and she told me I was hired." She snorted. "I decided not to ask questions and just go along with it."

Riley snorted. That sounded _exactly _like the boss of the restaurant he worked for; a complete nutcase. Hayley shrugged again, straightening.

"She told me you'd train me…?"

"Sooo you don' kno' how ta wash a dish?" Riley asked sarcastically. She sighed, rolling her eyes.

"No, apparently I just know how to get accosted by smartasses." He glared at her and she walked around the kitchen, inspecting it. "Do you always work back here by _yourself_? I mean, the rest of the kitchen staff's in the other part-"

"Cuz if she woulda made me stay up there wit' dem niggas, I woulda killed them." He said it so matter-of-factly that her eyebrows rose. "How come she put chu back here?"

Hayley shrugged. Riley was beginning to notice she did that a lot.

"She just told me she had someone bitching for help."

"Man, her lyin' ass!" he grumbled. "Don' nobody be complainin' 'cept her dumbass."

He watched Hayley smirk and pick up an apron off the top of one of the dishwashers, tying it around her waist.

"I can believe that." She blew a strand of hair out her face, siding up to him and staring past him to glance at the filled sinks. "No _wonder _you need help." She shook her head, searching for a pair of gloves. "What made you want to work at a hot wing place?"

"Cuz I thought I could get free wings."

She smirked. "Is it worth it?"

He sucked his teeth. "_No_. They be runnin' out _an _they be cold by tha time I get to 'em if they got any left_."_

"Huh." Hayley stuck her hands in the soapy dishwater in the sink beside the one he was at. "You'd think a minimum wage job would at least give you _hot _chicken wings."

"Hell _yea_…wait, wuz you bein' sarcastic?"

She smirked again. "Maybe."

Riley rolled his eyes. He was around too many sarcastic bitches.

"Are you a junior, too?" Hayley asked, rinsing off a plate. She was obviously trying to make conversation. Riley shook his head.

"Sophomore."

"Ah." She nodded. "And you got a brother that's a senior, right?"

It always somehow circled back around to Huey, regardless the topic. TV, B.E.T., _Muppet Babies_. He shrugged, trying to, for once in his life, keep his attitude in check. Won't Hawaii's fault that she didn't know any better.

Besides, it could be worse. She _could _be like other smartasses who thought it was cute to call him "little Freeman".

_Gah_.

"Yea." He started back to washing dishes as well, staring down into the sudsy water. "Why?"

"Just wondering." She was working on a pan now. "You two seem pretty different."

And _here _they went. "Yea," Riley repeated. She glanced over at him.

"You don't seem too happy about that."

Damn, did he come to work or an interrogation?

"Naw, man." He rinsed off a glass, nearly tossing it onto a drying rack. He didn't even bother trying to keep the hostility out his voice. "Cause I be havin' ta hear dat "he betta than you" shit all tha damn _time_."

She stopped, glancing at him again.

"I didn't say he was better than you. I said you were different." He stopped to stare at the girl as well. "Just because he's different from you, it doesn't make him better. Or vice versa." She continued to scrub at the pan, making a face. "When it really comes down to it we're all the same anyway, right?"

He blinked at her. "…Wat da hell is you _blabbin' _about?"

"Oh, joy." Hayley's voice was dry. "This is the beginning of a _beautiful _friendship."

Riley could tell she was being sarcastic, but he felt himself smirking regardless.

"Yup."

Hayley looked at him, pausing. And then, she was smiling too.

"Finally." When he gave her a puzzled look she sighed. "Someone who's not so black and white." His eyebrow lifted. "You'd be surprised how easy it is to read people around here."

He couldn't help but feel surprised. "An you think I'm like the rest of 'em?"

"No." She shook her head, her expression serious. "I don't."

He stared at her. She stared back. For a long moment there was silence.

Then…

"So, they got good tree down in Hawaii?"

To his surprise Hayley burst out laughing, shaking her head and going back to the dishes.

"Different." She continued snorting as Riley shook his own head, reluctantly resuming his work as well. "Definitely different."

* * *

Everyone's so _pissed_...

Anywho, thanks for reading! Now, do the other thing!

...No, not THAT thing! Not that thing, either!

...DEFINITELY not that thing.

Seriously, review! Because you want to. You know you do. :)

-Kelsey


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